Stranded
by Nari-chan SND
Summary: The elves force several other characters from the LotR to participate in a contest which involves staying on a deserted island. What craziness will ensue as they fight for the ultimate prize...? Parody on Survivor. WARNING: Lots of character bashing!
1. A 'Brief' Introduction

Nari: This is purely a random idea I got… you know… just for kicks… It's kinda based off of something I wrote but never posted a year ago! Also, I would like to add that I have never seen "Survivor", so I don't really know a lot about it.

* * *

(_blah_) Announcer talking during story

_blah_ flashback

* * *

Elrond rubbed his hands in glee. It was that time of the century again… He turned to Arwen, who had come to see him as soon as she got his secret message… Poor clueless Aragorn had no idea where she'd gotten to…

"Are the victims, I mean, contestants ready?" Elrond asked her.

Arwen nodded.

"Excellent… let the games begin…"

* * *

Meanwhile on some random deserted island…

One large elvish ship dropped off thirteen (gasp, an unlucky number!) clueless and rather confused people. They all fell to the sands of the beach with cries of surprise or muffled grunts.

(_Announcer: And now it's time for Stranded! Yay! It's been… what… 100 years? Yeah… So, let's introduce our victims, I mean, contestants!_)

One person managed to get out of the pile of people on the beach. He helped another person out of the pile. They were both short, with rather ugly hairy feet. (_Announcer: These are clueless contestants numbers one and two. Their names are Frodo and Bilbo Baggins. They are hobbits from the Shire. Bilbo is Frodo's uncle. They were also both Ringbearers. Let us now recall how these bumbling suckers got tricked, I mean, came to be on this little game…_)

* * *

_Galadriel gestured to Frodo, who was supporting his old Uncle Bilbo._

"_Get in, go on." She said with a little smile. "Don't worry, it's perfectly safe."_

"_Uh… we were about to get in." Frodo said. "What's the hurry?"_

_Galadriel twitched. "Nothing… Nothing! I swear!"_

"_Okay…" Frodo said as he and Bilbo boarded the ship._

"_Ha!" Galadriel said as she put potato sacks over each of the Hobbits' heads._

* * *

Frodo cocked his head. He then said, "Bilbo, do you hear something?"

"Frodo, lad, after you pass one hundred and twelve you don't hear much of anything anymore." Bilbo said.

"Oh…" Frodo said.

"What?" Bilbo yelled loudly.

"I said, 'Oh…'" Frodo re-iterated in a loud voice.

"What! Speak up, Frodo lad!"

"I SAID, 'OH…'!" Frodo screamed.

"What was that?"

"Oh, forget it!" Frodo muttered.

"What was that?"

* * *

The next person got out of the pile. He was also short, and rather fat, with incredibly ugly and hairy feet, in other words, he was another Hobbit. (_Announcer: This is clueless, and rather bumbling, contestant number three, Samwise Gamgee, aka Sam, or as he prefers to call himself, Samwise the Brave! He used to be Frodo's gardener and also accompanied him on the infamous journey to Mount Doom! Let's view how we forcibly got this poor sap to come with us…_)

* * *

_Sam was watering the lovely little garden that came along with Bag End. He was whistling a small song that was so off-tune that nobody except Sam knew what the tune was supposed to be._

_Elrond and Celeborn slowly crept up behind the unsuspecting Sam with a potato sack in their hands. Suddenly they put it over his head and dragged him off._

_Now where Rosie, his wife, and their children were at this moment of time is beyond speculation… Rumor is that Rosie put the elves up to taking Sam away…_

* * *

"Hmmm… Now how did I end up here?" Sam muttered to himself. Then, he spotted Frodo and Bilbo. "Oi, Mr. Frodo! What are you doing here?" He said as he ran over to Frodo and Bilbo.

"Sam!" Frodo exclaimed. "It's so good to see you again!"

"What!" Bilbo said.

"How'd we end up here?" Sam asked.

"I don't know. The last thing I remember was getting onto Galadriel's boat and…" Frodo shrugged, clueless.

"This sure is strange…" Sam said.

Bilbo then said, "What!"

Sam and Frodo sighed in irritation.

* * *

The next two people who got out of the pile were also hairy little midgets called Hobbits. (_Announcer: These are clueless contestants numbers four and five. Their names are Merry and Pippin; they are Hobbits from the Shire. They are also cousins. Let's see how we deceived these poor, clueless, little guys…_)

* * *

"_It says here that we're invited to Gondor for some sort of celebration." Merry said, reading the letter he had received from "Gondor" to Pippin._

"_Will there be food?" Pippin asked._

"_It says so." Merry said._

"_Then I say, let's go!" Pippin said._

"_Yeah, but this is weird." Merry said. "It says that we absolutely must take a boat there. And it also has to be the one that they arranged to take us."_

"_That is rather peculiar." Pippin said. "But they have food there, so no matter what, I still think we should go…"_

_At the port, Merry and Pippin stared in fascination at the boat._

"_Wow…" Merry said. "It sure is big…"_

"_Yeah." Pippin said. "Let's go!"_

_As soon as the hobbits got on the boat, tons of elves jumped out of nowhere and said, "Gotcha!" Then, they put potato sacks over the Hobbits' heads and sailed off with them._

* * *

"Merry?" Pippin said.

"What, Pip?" He responded.

"I'm hungry!"

"And what do you want me to do about that?"

"I dunno. Do you have any food?"

"No! And even if I did, I would eat it!"

Then, they both spotted Frodo, Bilbo, and Sam. "Hey, guys!" They said. "What are you doing here?"

Frodo shrugged. "None of us know. This is beginning to get stranger with every passing moment."

Sam nodded in agreement.

"What was that!" Bilbo exclaimed.

* * *

The next person who emerged from the pile was surprisingly not a Hobbit! In fact, he was a tall old man with a white beard and longish white hair, wearing all white. He scratched his head in confusion and surveyed his surroundings. (_Announcer: This is **really** clueless contestant number six. He is better know as Gandalf the Grey…)_

Gandalf cleared his throat and gestured to the white beard, white hair, and white clothes. "It's not that hard to remember! It's Gandalf the **White**!" He said.

(_Announcer: Okay! I'm soooooooooo (not) sorry! Anyways, where was I? Ah, yes… He is better known as Gandalf **the White**, Mithrandir, or, my favorite, the-stupid-clueless-guy-who-could-have-saved-so-much-time-if-he-had-just-used-the-stinkin'-Eagels-to-take-the-Ring-to-Mount-Doom! Man, that's a mouthful. Anyway, let's see how we "convinced" this guy to come on our show… It wasn't really that hard…_)

* * *

_Elrond waited impatiently at the boat. "Hurry up, Gandalf, or I swear I'll leave without you!"_

"_Nooooooooooooooooo!" Gandalf yelled, running onto the ship._

"_Hah, sucker." Elrond said and put a potato sack over Gandalf's head._

* * *

Gandalf continued to look around until he spotted the Hobbits and walked over to them. "Hello, Frodo, Sam, Bilbo, Merry, and… um… what's your name again?" He said, pointing to Pippin.

"Oh, for the love of…" Pippin muttered. "It's Pippin! Is that so hard to remember Gandalf the Grey… I mean… Gandalf the White!" He yelled to Gandalf.

"Ah, now I remember!" Gandalf said, oblivious to what Pippin had said. "You're the Fool of a Took! I knew it would come to me!"

"Ui vei!" Pippin exclaimed, slapping himself on the forehead.

"Gandalf," Frodo said, "do you have any idea why we're here? Bilbo, Sam, Merry, Pippin, and I don't remember anything that would give us a clue!"

"Hold on a second…" Gandalf said. "It's coming to me…" He took a thinking pose. All of the Hobbits, except for Bilbo (who was trying to clean out his ears with his finger), were eager for him to remember. "Nope!" Gandalf said. "I got nothing!"

"Oh, man!" Said all of the Hobbits, except for Bilbo.

"What!" Bilbo said.

* * *

Back at the pile, another person got out and dusted himself off. Two hands of two other people who were stuck in the pile waved around, hoping that someone would pull them out. The man sighed and pulled on each of the hands until their owners both tumbled out of the pile.

The man looked at who he had pulled out of the pile and looked dumbstruck for a moment or two before he began to run around in circles, screaming, "GHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSTS!"

(_Announcer: Man, I love family reunions! Anyway, these are clueless contestants numbers seven, eight, and nine. They are, in order that they came out of the pile, Faramir, Boromir, and Denethor. They are all from Gondor. Boromir and Denethor are both dead, by the way; Boromir was killed by arrows. And Denethor set himself ablaze. I guess his mother never told him not to play with fire. Hahaha! Oh well! Anyway, here's how we defied the laws of nature, and some supernatural ones as well, to re-unite this family!_)

* * *

_On a pretty little tropical island of death…_

"_Whoooooo! Luau!" Ecthelion yelled._

_A party was currently in motion. Okay, so they were always partying._

_Boromir, Denethor, and Finduilas got in line for the limbo. The pole was being supervised by Haldir._

_Everyone else began to chant, "How low can you go? How low can you go?"_

_Boromir was the first one to go under. As soon as he passed under the pole there was a faint 'pop' and Boromir disappeared._

"_My son!" Denethor yelled, dropping to his knees. "Noooooooooooooooooooooo!"_

_Haldir rolled his eyes. "I'm sure he's okay, now it's your turn to limbo!"_

"_Fine." Denethor said and went under the pole. Again, there was a faint 'pop' and Denethor disappeared._

_Finduilas' mout dropped open. It was her turn to limbo. "Forget it." She said. "I'm getting some punch."_

_Haldir cursed his rotten luck that he couldn't re-unite the whole family. Oh well, two out of three wasn't bad._

_At Minas Tirith…_

"_And why do I have to go on this ship while wearing a blindfold?" Faramir asked the guard, who looked oddly elvish._

"_Umm… it's a surprise?"_

"_Right… Sorry, I'm not doing it."_

"_But you have to!"_

"_Why?"_

"_Because… I… HE'S ONTO US! GET HIM!" The elf posing as a guard yelled. Suddenly a bunch of elves holding potato sacks surrounded Faramir, potato-sacked his head, and carried him off in the boat._

* * *

Faramir was running around in a circle screaming about ghosts. Boromir sighed and picked up his little brother by the shirt and began to shake him. "WE ARE NOT GHOSTS!" He yelled and then put Faramir down.

"Oh, you're not?" Faramir said. "Well… if you're not ghosts… then that means that I'm dreaming! Aha! Oh man… I hope this isn't one of those dreams with the rabid squirrels…" he shudderd. "Squirrels…"

Boromir slapped Faramir in the face, who winced and rubbed the area that had been slapped. "Ow! What'd you do that for!" He said.

"If you were dreaming, that wouldn't have hurt."

"Good point. So what is going on? And how come you and Father are suddenly… not dead?"

Boromir shrugged. "I have no idea…"

"I hate you, Faramir." Denethor said.

"I know." Faramir said with a grimace.

They all spotted the rest of the stranded people and went over to them.

As soon as they got over, Pippin screamed and pointed at Denethor, saying, "Aaaaah! It's Crazy! And he's risen from the dead to seek his unholy revenge against me and Gandalf. Run, Gandalf, run!" Pippin screamed as he and Gandalf began to run in random squiggly directions, screaming their heads off.

Frodo looked at Boromir and said, "Gah! It's the Ring Theif! Abandon all hope! Run for your lives! He'll kill us all!" Frodo begins to run in circles around Bilbo, who says, "What?"

Boromir rolled his eyes, "Geez, you make one mistake…"

* * *

The next person to get out of the pile was short, but blissfully had no ugly hairy feet. In place of that, he had a long beard. As he got out of the pile, he muttered furiously to himself.

(_Announcer: This is clueless contestant number ten. He is Gimli, son of Gloin. He is a dwarf. Not that you probably couldn't guess that already… Now, let's see how we tricked this contestant into coming…_)

* * *

"_Come on, Gimli! Let's go sailing!" Legolas said to him._

"_Ugh! This is the dozenth time you've asked me today! Very well, I'll go with you."_

"_Okay! Get in this boat!" Legolas gestured to the rather large boat he was in._

"_How are two people going to sail that thing?" Gimli asked as he started up the boat's plank._

"_Oh, don't worry," Legolas said, with a mischievous grin, "You'll see…"_

_As soon as Gimli got into the boat, a bunch of Mirkwood elves surrounded him, holding their weapon of choice. No, it's not a bow and arrows… it's potato sacks! They put several over Gimli's head and tied him up as they sailed away._

* * *

"I knew it from the day I said it!" Gimli muttered as he walked along the beach. "Never trust an elf!" He kicked at the sand, which flew into his eye. "Aaaah! I've got sand in my eyes!" He ran around, rubbing his eyes until he ran into and knocked over Frodo, Pippin, and Gandalf, all of whom were also running around for their own little reasons.

All of others looked at the new pile-up of Gimli, Gandalf, Frodo, and Pippin.

"Now, if you don't mind me sayin'," Sam said, "That is one of the most pathetic things I've seen in my life."

"Then clearly you don't own a mirror!" Frodo yelled from the pile-up.

"You cut me deep, Mr. Frodo!" Sam said. "Really deep!"

"Oh, shut up!" Gandalf muttered.

"I don't suppose you know anything about our current situation, do you Gimli?" Merry asked.

"Aye, I do. It's the elves' doing! They catch you unsuspecting and then they ambush you with…"

"With what, Gimli?" Merry asked.

"Oh, no, it's too horrible… I cannot speak of it…"

"Oh, for pity's sake!" Boromir said. "Spit it out, Gimli!"

"It's… it's…" Gimli stuttered.

"Out with it!" Boromir yelled.

"…potato sacks."

All of the hobbits, and Gimli, screamed and fainted.

Boromir raised his eyebrows. "Potato sacks? That's not so scary…"

"Then clearly you weren't ambushed by hundreds of elves holding them." Faramir said with a shudder.

Gandalf shuddered as well. "It was truly a life-altering experience."

Boromir smacked his head. "Oh, brother."

"Yes?" Faramir said.

Boromir shook his head.

"I hate you, Faramir." Denethor said.

"I know." Faramir said.

"What!" Bilbo exclaimed.

* * *

The next person shook himself free from what was now a very small pile. He then straightened himself up, proudly to his full height and surveyed the surrounding area.

(_Announcer: This is clueless contestant number eleven. He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, also known as the King of Gondor. Let us now view how this man came to be on our show…_)

* * *

_Arwen summoned Aragorn to the dock. "Aragorn, come out here! I have something to show you!"_

_Aragorn came out to Arwen. "What is it?"_

"_I found the perfect place where we can take our Honeymoon."_

"_Where?"_

"_Here." Arwen said, gesturing to a large boat._

"_Arwen, you know how I hate sailing…"_

"_Please… For me?" Arwen pleaded._

"_Fine." Aragon said and boarded the boat._

_Arwen leaned in to kiss Aragorn and he did the same. Right before their lips touched, though, Arwen pulled out a potato sack (gasp!)! She then put it over Aragorn's head and a bunch of elves, including Elrond, came out of nowhere and tied Aragorn up._

_Elrond went up to Arwen and said, "Good job, honey, I'm so proud of you!"_

"_Thanks dad!" Arwen said with a smile._

* * *

Aragorn saw all of the other stranded people and went over to them. "What are you all doing here!" He asked them. "I thought this was supposed to be my Honeymoon!"

"Not unless you're married to all of us." Gandalf said sarcastically.

"What!" Bilbo yelled.

"What's going on then?" Aragorn asked. "The last thing I remember was seeing the interior of a potato sack!"

At the moment Aragorn mentioned the dreaded potato sack all of the hobbits, and Gimli, screamed and passed out.

"What's with them?" Aragorn asked.

"Long story." Gandalf said.

"Very well." Aragorn replied.

* * *

The last two people to emerge from the pile were big and covered in black robes.

(_Announcer: Our last two clueless contestants come from the lands of Mordor! The first one is Sauron, the dark lord. He is famous for his two attempted world conquests._)

Sauron shook his fist at the invisible voice in the sky. "And I would have gotten away with it too if it weren't for those meddling hobbits and that Isildur too!"

(_A/N: Whoa! Too much of a Scooby Doo moment there! (shudders)._)

(_Announcer: Okay… Anyway, the other contestant is Sauron's most loyal minion, the King of the Nazgul, who prefers to be known as Bob, which sounds a lot less intimidating. Hah! Bob!_)

Bob glared at the sky. "Are you making fun of my name, punk?"

(_Announcer: No!_)

"No, what?" Bob hissed.

(_Announcer: No, sir!_)

"That's more like it…"

(_Announcer: I don't see why we had to put these guys on… Well… let's see how we got these big, very scary guys to be on our show…_)

* * *

_Bob and Sauron sat on another death island that was reserved for people who had done very bad things like trying to enslave the free peoples of Middle Earth, maliciously killing lots of people, and all of those who have forced children to eat asparagus (shudder)._

"_How could we lose!" Sauron growled._

"_It wasn't a game, dimwit!" Bob retorted._

"_I hate you."_

"_Well, I hate you more!"_

_With that, Bob and Sauron got into a slap-fight. Suddenly, there was a flash of light and they were gone. Ooooh… spooky…_

* * *

Bob pointed at the group of stranded people. "Who are they!"

Sauron looked closely. "Hey, that guy's the guy who destroyed my precious ring!" He hissed, pointing to Frodo. "Let's get him!"

Before any more madness could ensue, however, a flash of light appeared before all of the stranded people and Arwen appeared. "Welcome to our competition!" She said.

"What!" All of the stranded people exclaimed.

"Arwen! What are you doing here!" Aragorn exclaimed.

Arwen smiled. "I am the host of our little game that will begin soon. First, I must explain the rules. All of you will have to fend for yourselves on this island. You can form groups if you want, but that's kind of boring… Oh well…"

"And why should we do this?" Boromir demanded.

"Because if you win, the prize shall be one wish. It can be anything like an ice cream sundae or a pet monkey…"

"…or to get my finger back…" Frodo said.

"…or to become the tallest and most good-looking hobbit the world has ever seen…" Sam said.

"…or to have an infinite all-you-can-eat buffet that changes food for every meal!..." Pippin said.

"…or to be one of the races of men…" Merry said.

"…or to have all of the magic in the world…" Gandalf said.

"…or to get my family back…" Faramir said.

"I hate you, Faramir." Denethor said.

"…with the exception of him…" Faramir added on.

"…or for… no, you already said my wish, Faramir…" Boromir said.

"…or for my son and me to live again and for me to be king of Gondor…!" Denethor exclaimed.

"…or for endless amounts of salted pork and beer…!" Gimi said as his mouth watered.

"…or for…" Aragorn paused. "Actually, I don't think I have a wish…"

"…or for the Ring to be mine and for me to rule the rest of Middle Earth! Mwahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!" Sauron said.

"I'm going to have to think about my wish…" Bob said.

"What!" Bilbo yelled.

"Maybe I could do without the finger and wish for Bilbo's hearing to be restored." Frodo added.

"Good!" Arwen said. "All of you know what you want! If one of you leaves the island, you will be disqualified. Also, you will occasionally be summoned together to vote someone off. Any questions?"

"Yeah, I have a question." Denethor said. "Who are you? Where are you from? And more importantly…" He sprayed his mouth with that breath freshener to make it kissing fresh, "Are you single?"

Arwen looked revolted, Aragorn punched the old man in the jaw, and Boromir and Faramir yelled, "But, you're married!"

"Any other **non**-revolting questions?" Arwen asked.

"Do you have any food?" Pippin asked.

"No." Arwen said. "You have to find your own food. Any other questions?"

"What!" Bilbo yelled.

Everyone sighed in the hopelessness for his ears.

"Very well, then." Arwen said. "Let the games begin!" She disappeared in a flash of light, leaving the thirteen contestants on their own.

* * *

**Nari**: That's all for now! Sorry if it's too long or if I seriously bashed some of the characters. Please review and tell me what you thought! 


	2. The Forming of the Teams

Disclaimer: I don't own Lord of the Rings and I don't own "Survivor".

* * *

**Special Thanks**: At this time, I'd like to thank my biggest inspiration, Mina! You never really did anything, but I always felt inspired around you! Just kidding. I'd like to thank Mina for giving me ideas, especially with the Dysfunctional Dorks when I got stuck. Oh yeah, and I'd also like to thank Mina for the whole thing about Gandalf and the Eagles thing. I forgot to do that the last time and Mina'd skin me alive if I forgot it this time. Again, just kidding. Anyways, thanks for always being there, Mina!

* * *

(_blah_) – Announcer talking

* * *

(_Announcer: Welcome back to Stranded! While you've been gone, our contestants have decided to make groups. (pouts) Why did they have to make groups?! Anyway, the groups are…The Ringbearers (Frodo, Sam, and Bilbo), The Food-seekers (Merry, Pippin, and Gimli), The Hobbit-Haters (Sauron and Bob), The King of the Island (Aragorn), The Nitwit (Gandalf ), and The Dysfunctional Dorks (Faramir, Boromir, and Denethor). Let's see how these odd pairs were made…_)

* * *

**The Ringbearers** (Frodo, Sam, and Bilbo)

"Alright," Frodo said, holding Bilbo's hand so that the peevish old Hobbit would not wander off, "you'd better stick with me, Bilbo. The wilderness is no place for a hundred-something year old hobbit. You probably can't see a thing."

"What was that, Grace?" Bilbo said.

Frodo sighed. "How many times do I have to tell you, Uncle? I'M NOT YOUR EX-GIRLFRIEND!!!"

"What was that? Grace, would you massage my bunions?" Bilbo asked, holding up his thoroughly dirty foot.

Frodo wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Ugh! Bilbo, don't you ever wash your feet?"

"What!" Bilbo yelled.

"Oi, Mr. Frodo!" Sam said, walking up to Frodo. "You thinking 'bout forming a team?"

"Yes, Sam." Frodo responded. "I'm going to take care of Bilbo. I think he'd die if I left him to fend for himself."

"Oh, terrific, then! You won't mind if I join you, right?" Sam asked.

"Um…" Frodo thought for a moment.

"Please?" Sam assumed the pleading position on his knees and sticking out his lower lip.

"Well…" Frodo said, still thinking.

"Please, please, please with taters on top!" Sam pleaded.

"I don't know..." Frodo said.

"Oh, come on! It can't be that hard to decide whether you want your Sam with you or not!"

"…Fine… You can join us." Frodo said indifferently.

"What!" Bilbo yelled.

"What should we call ourselves, then?" Sam asked.

"Well, I was thinking about calling Bilbo and me The Useless Hobbits, The Misfit Midgets, or The Ringbearers. Now that you're with us, we can't be called The Ringbearers, which was the one I was leaning towards, because you never bore a ring." Frodo said.

"Now don't be sayin' such things, Mr. Frodo. Don't you remember that I took the Ring for a while after Shelob?"

At the sound of Shelob's name, Frodo threw himself to the ground and began to twitch. "Her name! It burns us, precious!" Frodo yelled, sounding like Gollum. After a few seconds, he got back up and said, "Sorry, Sam, just had to get that out of my system. Very well, we shall be The Ringbearers!"

"What!" Bilbo yelled.

* * *

**The Food-seekers** (Merry, Pippin, and Gimli)

"Merry!" Pippin said.

"What is it this time, Pip?" Merry responded in a slightly irritated voice.

"I'm hungry!"

"Well, so am I, Pip! I missed second breakfast and all I had for breakfast were ten pancakes, five waffles, seven pieces of bacon, and a chocolate muffin with nuts in it!"

"Really? That's it? Well, for breakfast, I had a large bacon, cheese, and tater omlette, a large pizza, a croissant, ten dozen apples, an apple cinnamon muffin, ten chocolate chip pancakes…" Pippin paused to take a deep breath, "…and four pieces of Lembas bread!"

Gimli walked up to the two Hobbits. "That was your breakfasts, young hobbits? Ugh, I wish I could've been as fortunate. Since I was going sailing with Legolas, I only had a small meal, which was one bite out of my beloved salted pork! I would've had more, but you know what sailing does to my stomach, I…"

"WHOA!" The two Hobbits exclaimed. "Gimli, that's a little too much information!"

"All right then…" Gimli said, pouting. He really wanted to talk to someone about what sailing did to his stomach.

There was a brief moment of awkward silence between the three, who looked around awkwardly. Then, their stomachs rumbled in unison to break the silence.

"Hey, I have an idea!" Pippin said. "We all want food, right?"

"Right!" Merry and Gimli said.

"So, let's team up together and find some food!" Pippin exclaimed.

"…like apples!" Merry exclaimed.

"…or salted pork!" Gimli bellowed with joy.

"…or apple cinnamon muffins!" Pippin said, receiving a stare from the other two. "What?" He asked.

"And where are you going to find those, Pip?" Merry asked. "Apple cinnamon muffins don't grow on trees, you know!"

"Well, neither does salted pork!" Pippin retorted. "Besides, I like apple cinnamon muffins." Pippin's gaze grew wistful. "The apple makes it refreshingly crunchy while the cinnamon makes it deliciously soft!"

"Yeah…" Merry and Gimli said, wistfully thinking back on the last time they had apple cinnamon muffins.

"So, from now on, we shall be known as The Food-seekers!" Pippin exclaimed.

"Yeah!" The other two Food-seekers agreed.

* * *

**The Hobbit-Haters** (Sauron and Bob)

Sauron grabbed Bob's hand. "You're teaming up with me!" He hissed. "Together, we can conquer anything! First, this game. Then, the world! Bwahahahahahahahahahahaha!"

Bob sighed. "Yes, Master." He said in a bummed voice. Obviously he had no choice in the matter.

"Excellent." Sauron said, rubbing his hands together in glee. "We shall be the Hobbit-Haters and we shall hate Hobbits, for that is what we do as Hobbit-Haters! First, we shall get rid of that pesky Hobbit, you know, the one who destroyed the Ring and our chances of world conquest. Then, well, we'll play it by ear…"

"Sure, whatever floats your boat." Bob said indifferently. Then his tone changed to be slightly sarcastic. "I mean, after all, I am your slave for eternity, and it's not like I have anything else better to do."

"Exactly!" Sauron said, not knowing the definition of 'sarcasm'. "So, come, my minion! Let us destroy the Hobbits!"

Bob sighed and grumbled something about his master being a nitwit, but when Sauron looked behind his shoulder, Bob perked up and pretended to be enthusiastic.

* * *

**The King of the Island** (Aragorn)

Aragorn looked at the other stranded contestants to find someone he could pair up with. Frodo, Sam, and Bilbo seemed to have made a team and were chatting off in one part of the beach. Gimli, Merry, and Pippin also seemed to have teamed up and were walking off into the jungle, probably to find some food. Sauron was dragging Bob around, looking for a good spot where they could spy on Frodo, Sam, and Bilbo.

He could take his Steward, Faramir, but Faramir looked like he had other plans. Considering that they were both Rangers, they could have been a formidable pair. Oh well…

He surveyed his other choices for an alliance. Boromir… nah, he'd probably go with Faramir and Denethor. Aragorn had no wish to be with the former Steward of Gondor, also known fondly as Crazy. So that ruled Boromir and Faramir out. Denethor wasn't even on the radar screen.

So, who was left…? He saw Gandalf standing all by himself on the beach. "Not even if my life depended on it." Aragorn muttered.

Nobody else was left. But that didn't matter. He was a Ranger and King of Gondor! He could do anything! "And soon, I shall be King of this Island!" Aragorn said, psyching himself up for the challenge. "I'm easily going to win! Hmm…" He thought to himself. "King of the Island… I like it! That shall be the name of my one-person team!"

He walked off proudly to set up the necessary things to begin his 'conquest'.

* * *

**The Nitwit** (Gandalf)

Gandalf stood on the beach, alone. He ran his fingers through his white beard. He needed a partner, someone skilled in the arts of survival. Everybody except for Faramir, Boromir, Denethor, and Aragorn had made alliances. He automatically ruled Denethor and Boromir out. Denethor because odds are that if he made an alliance with that man, he would be killed sometime during their first night on the island. He ruled Boromir out because… well, he just didn't really like him. So that left Faramir and Aragorn.

Gandalf tried Aragorn first. As soon as he got within a few footsteps from Aragorn, he turned around and said to Gandalf, "Not even if you paid me, Nitwit."

Gandalf sighed and trudged over to Faramir and said, "I don't suppose you would want to…"

Faramir held up his hand. "If I had to choose between you and Crazy…" He said gesturing over to Denethor. Gandalf looked excited, thinking that he would finally get a lackey, I mean, partner. "…I'd pick Crazy." Faramir continued. "And that's saying a lot."

"I hate you Faramir!" Denethor yelled from where he was standing.

Faramir sighed. "I know." He muttered.

"Fine, I don't need you anyway!" Gandalf yelled at Faramir, backing away from Faramir, still facing him. "I'm Gandalf the White! With my magic, I can do anything!" He assumed a proud pose. "Anything!" He turned on his heel and then tripped on his robes, receiving a face full of sand.

Faramir shook his head in disgust. "Nitwit." He muttered and walked away.

* * *

**The Dysfunctional Dorks** (Faramir, Boromir, and Denethor)

Faramir, after calling Gandalf a Nitwit, walked over to Boromir and pulled him aside before Denethor could.

"Please, Boromir!" He said. "You have to protect me!"

"From what, Faramir?" Boromir asked, raising his eyebrows.

Faramir looked around to make sure nobody was listening. "The squirrels." He whispered.

"The squirrels." Boromir reiterated in disbelief. "You want me to protect you from squirrels."

Faramir nodded, childishly. "Yes, the squirrels. They're after me, brother!" He said, grabbing Boromir's shirt sleeve.

"Faramir," Boromir said, shaking Faramir off, "you're thirty-eight years old, you're married, you're Captain of the Rangers of Ithilien and the White Tower, you're married, you're Steward of Gondor and one of the closest advisors to the King, you're married, you've faced and survived tons of perils when I did not, you're married, you live in the forest, and you're married. So, why do you need me to protect you from… squirrels?"

"You said 'married' five times."

"So? It's five times as scary as all those other things. Ever wonder why I never did want to marry?"

"Oh…"

"Anyway, you didn't answer my question."

"Remember when I was three? And I was feeding squirrels in Minas Tirith? And then a rabid one attacked me? Remember?"

Boromir nodded.

"So then you remember that you and mom had to chase it away and then Dad had to sic the _entire_ GAC (1) on that one squirrel?" He shuddered in remembrance.

"Oh, for pity's sake, you were three! Let it go! Look, I'm more than happy to pair up with you, but if we're going to be a team, you've got to forget your phobia of squirrels!"

Faramir nodded. "I'll try."

At that moment, Denethor came up to Boromir and said, "Son, we're making an alliance." He locked his arm with Boromir's.

"Uh…" Boromir said.

"Oh, come on, it's not like you made an alliance with somebody else already!" Denethor said.

"Uh…" Boromir couldn't think of anything to say without causing a disaster.

"Don't tell me you're with _him_." Denethor leered at Faramir.

"Actually…" Boromir started.

"Very well, son, if you wish to be paired with…" Denethor paused to give Faramir a death glare. "… _him_, I shall put up with it to be with you."

"Gee, how generous." Boromir said sarcastically.

"I know, aren't I?" Denethor, also not knowing the meaning of 'sarcasm', said.

Boromir sighed and smacked his forehead, shaking his head.

"Well, if we're a team, we should probably set up some shelter first." Faramir suggested.

"Good idea, Faramir!" Boromir said. "That way we can be protected from the elements!"

"No," Faramir said, "that's a silly reason! We're doing it to protect ourselves from the squirrels!"

Boromir sighed. "If you say so…"

(_Announcer: What a bunch of Dysfunctional Dorks!_)

Faramir, Boromir, and Denethor glared up at the invisible voice in the sky and simultaneously said, "Hey!"

(_Announcer: Hehehe. That's actually kind of catchy! So be it! You shall be the Dysfunctional Dorks!_)

"We are not dysfunctional! Or dorks!" They all yelled in unison.

"I hate you, Faramir." Denethor said.

"I know." Faramir replied, shoulders sagging, accepting the fact.

"Well, at least we're not dorks!" Boromir said, trying to maintain a positive note.

* * *

(_Announcer: Next time on Stranded, the first elimination occurs! Who will go? Will it be a Ringbearer, a Food-seeker, The King of the Island, The Nitwit, or a Dysfunctional Dork? Find out when we return!_)

* * *

(1) – The GAC is the Gondorian Animal Control. It's in another story (The Downside to Being Steward) that I co-authored with Mina-chan AMD and I just had to put it in! XD

**Another side-note for future chapters**: People do not get eliminated automatically if someone in their team does. It's more like a loose alliance of mutual standing of each other than an actual team.

* * *

**Nari**: So, what did you guys think? Good, bad, so terribly awful that you wanted to silence me with a giant shovel? Tell me! At this time I would like to thank all of the awesome people who reviewed for the first chapter! You rock! Also, if you like this story, you may want to try "The Downside to Being Steward" written under Mina-chan AMD's pen-name. It's hysterical! Anyways, I rant, again! Please leave lots of reviews! 


	3. First Elimination

Discliamer: Again, I don't own Lord of the Rings, or "Survivor." That's a fact of life that will never change.

* * *

(_blah_) – Announcer talking

* * *

(_Announcer: Welcome back! Now that our contestants have teamed up, let's see how they cope with being stranded on an island without any food, water, shelter, or… TV! (a group of people gasp).We will be checking in on all of the alliances and see how they interact with one another. Also, who will be kicked off first? How will he go? And more importantly, why am I still talking?_)

* * *

**The King of the Island** (Aragorn)

Aragorn proudly surveyed his newly built shelter. It was a small, shabby little thing made out of sticks and palm tree leaves. It looked as if it would only cover a small amount of Aragorn's body if he were to curl up inside.

"I dub thee 'The King's Palace'." Aragorn said to the shelter. A cocky smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "I'm glad I still remember how to do this!" He said proudly. A gentle breeze tugged at his hair, adding to the dramatic effect.

As the breeze blew, the twigs supporting the leaf roof collapsed in on each other and the leaves blew away. Aragorn's face fell in despair as the leaves blew off into the horizon. He crossed his arms and grumbled, "Now back to square one."

Aragorn walked back into the forest to collect more items he could use to make a shelter.

… … …

"Viola! It is done!" Aragorn exclaimed, stepping away from his new 'masterpiece'. "I shall call you 'The King's Palace II'."

'The King's Palace II' was definitely an improvement over 'The King's Palace I'. For starters, it was bigger and sturdier. It could now probably fit all of Aragorn, even if he stretched out.

Aragorn's stomach rumbled with complaint. "I should probably find some food." He said to himself. "Maybe I can find some fruit or something."

Aragorn strode over to the nearest tree and kicked it. He saw fruits shake in the higher branches. Too lazy to actually climb the tree, for such work did not suit the King of Gondor, Aragorn shook and kicked the tree. The fruit refused to fall off.

Aragorn gave a frustrated yell and punched the tree-trunk. Not a very smart move. He yelled in pain as soon as his knuckles made contact with the hard bark, adding a pain in his left hand to his short list of woes. While Aragorn nursed his injured hand and yelled oaths so terrible that they cannot be repeated in this story without changing the rating to 'M', for mature, the fruit fell loose from the tree and bonked Aragorn on the head, causing him to look up to see what hit him. He then looked down and saw the bushel of bananas on the ground.

He smiled. "That wasn't too bad. And tonight, I shall feast like the King that I am!"

While Aragorn was busy praising his glorious self, a monkey walked out of the jungle and spotted the bananas. He rubbed his hands together. Jackpot, if he just took the bananas off of the sandy ground he could eat comfortably for a week. So much for not being able to take care of himself and not being able to get his own food. He'd show his clan.

The monkey ran across the beach sands and took the bananas right out from under Aragorn's nose.

Aragorn, of course, noticed the vexing simian scampering off with his dinner. "Hey! You! Get back here with my dinner!" Aragorn yelled, chasing after the monkey on the beach. Eventually, both disappeared from view.

* * *

**The Food-seekers** (Merry, Pippin, and Gimli)

"Merry, I'm hungry!" Pippin whined.

"I know, Pip! We're all hungry!" Merry irritably replied.

The Food-seekers had been aimlessly wandering around in the jungle for several hours, trying to find something to eat. So far, they had found nothing.

"I think we're lost, young Hobbits!" Gimli said.

"Lost?!" Merry, the one who was leading the group through the jungle, said with a twitch, "We're not lost! What would make you think we're lost!"

"This is the second time we've passed that exact tree!" Gimli said. "Face it; we're going around in circles!"

Merry frowned. "Stop being so ridiculous, Gimli. I know exactly where we are."

"Really? Then, Merry, what's the direction we need to go to get out?" Pippin asked.

"I… uh…"

"Well?"

"Okay, fine! We're lost!"

All of the Food-seeker's stomachs growled in a reminder to their owners that they were in need of food.

"Merry, do you think trees are edible?" Pippin asked.

"I dunno, Pip. Never tried one."

"Maybe just a bite…" Pippin eyed one of the trees with hungry intent.

"Wait! Pip! I don't think you want to be doing that." Merry said.

"Why not?"

"What if it's an ent? Or worse, imagine if Treebeard found out that you tried to eat a tree."

Pippin shuddered. "Okay, so I won't eat the tree, but can I at least try a leaf?"

"Sure, fine."

Pippin cheered with happiness and scampered up the tree. A few seconds later, he came down with a handful of leaves. He put one in his mouth. He chewed it, savoring it as the only source of nutrition he could find. He swallowed and then ate another one.

"Well, how is it?" Gimli asked.

"It's good enough. Not as good as apple cinnamon muffins, though." Pippin responded.

"Give me some of those!" Gimli said, grabbing a bunch of leaves from Pippin's arms and greedily stuffed them into his mouth and chewed. He made a disgusted face and immediately spat the leaves out. "You're crazy, Peregrin Took, if you think that those… abominations come relatively close to being 'good'."

"When you've been deprived of food for a good… gee, how long has it been now since we ate, Merry?"

"About seven hours, fifteen minutes, nine seconds, and fifteen milliseconds… give or take." Merry responded.

"Right… for a good… what Merry said, anything comestible tastes good." Pippin said.

"Whatever, we should probably get back to looking for _real_ food now." Merry commented.

The other Food-seekers agreed and continued to wander through the forest, hopelessly lost.

* * *

**The Nitwit** (Gandalf)

Gandalf sat down on the beach, cluelessly. He had never been in the wilderness before, all by himself. That's why he always randomly dragged people off to go on adventures with him, so he wouldn't get bored or lonely, both of which described his current state of being.

He sighed. Even if he was experienced with the whole 'camping out in the wilderness' thing, he wouldn't have wanted to anyway. The back-breaking labor could cause him to somehow get a stain on his perfectly white garments, thereby tainting them. If he had been Gandalf the Grey, or Gandalf the Black, or even Gandalf the Military-Camouflage Colors, he would gladly have done such tasks as tramping around to gather wood or to get food.

But, alas, he was Gandalf the White, and he would never do such hazardous tasks without a washing-machine and bleach on hand, or a spare change of perfectly white garments, neither of which were available in his current predicament.

He saw Faramir passing by, carrying some wood for some obscure purpose. "Faramir!" He yelled.

Faramir paused and looked at Gandalf. "What?"

"I don't suppose you'd like to help an old man set up his shelter, gather wood, make a fire, and get some food, would you?"

Faramir rolled his eyes. "Do you really expect me to fall for the 'old man' gag, Gandalf? I know better than that."

"But, Faramir, I wasn't asking for much…"

"Yes you were, Nitwit." With that, Faramir walked off to where his team had decided to settle, leaving Gandalf alone, sitting meditatively on the beach.

* * *

**The Dysfunctional Dorks** (Faramir, Boromir, and Denethor)

"I got the wood you wanted, Boromir." Faramir said, handing his brother the long and skinny sticks. Denethor had been sent off by Boromir to find more leaves for the roofs of the shelters, or 'anti-squirrel forts' or 'squirrel shelters' as Faramir called them, which Faramir was building. "They're long and skinny, just like you wanted."

"Thanks." Boromir said appreciatively. He was currently trying to sharpen a rock to make a good, pointy weapon.

"Now, if you don't mind me asking, to what anti-squirrel purposes will these sticks be put to use? I must know." Faramir asked, anxiously.

"They'll be used for hunting."

"Hunting the squirrels?"

"No. Hunting for food."

"Oh."

Boromir held up the rock he was sharpening for Faramir's inspection. "Does this look sharp enough to be a weapon to you?"

Faramir shrugged. "I guess so."

"Good!" Boromir picked out a long, skinny stick and fastened the sharp rock to it with what appeared to be gray rope.

"Where'd you get rope in the middle of a deserted island?" Faramir asked.

"Rope?" Boromir cocked his head in confusion. Then, he looked at what fastened the spearhead to his home-made spear. "Oh, you mean that? That's not rope."

"Then, what is it?"

"Human hair."

"Human hair." Faramir re-iterated in disbelief. "Where'd you get that?"

"From Father's head. He was willing enough when I asked."

"That's gross."

"Yeah, I know. He never even washes it, too."

Faramir shuddered. "For as long as we'll be here, I'm converting to vegetarianism."

"Smart move."

At this point in time, Denethor returned to the camp. He held a bunch of palm tree leaves in his arms. As he came to their, for lack of a better word, campsite, he deposited the leaves on the ground. "Is that enough?" He asked.

"Dunno." Boromir said with a shrug. "Faramir's the Ranger, so he's the one in charge of the… uh… anti-squirrel forts."

"Oh… so that explains why they're so terrible." Denethor said, gesturing to the three perfectly fine shelters.

"Well, then you can just sleep out in the open and face being mauled by squirrels you ungrateful, no-good, contentious, ba-" Faramir started to mutter before Boromir sharply stepped on Faramir's foot, causing him to grimace in pain.

"Did you say something?" Denethor asked Faramir, oblivious to what his son had just muttered.

Faramir scowled and began to open his mouth before Boromir, wishing to maintain the uneasy peace, quickly interjected, saying, "No, he didn't."

Faramir sighed and kept his silence.

"So, son, are you going hunting?" Denethor asked Boromir, indicating to the spear that Boromir was holding.

"Not tonight, Father. I'm too tired to do anything that strenuous. You know, all this coming back to life stuff really takes it out of a person."

"I know what you mean, son."

Faramir opened his mouth to make a scalding remark towards Denethor, but Boromir interjected again, firmly putting a hand over his little brother's mouth.

"I think you know me too well." Faramir muttered so that only his brother could hear.

Boromir smiled and nodded.

* * *

**The Ringbearers** (Frodo, Sam, and Bilbo)

"Well, now that we've teamed up, what do you think we should do first, Sam?" Frodo asked.

"Well, Mr. Frodo, while all these pansies here are making their shelters, we could skip that and get right to gathering our food." Sam replied.

"And how do you figure that?"

"Well, on our journey to Mount Doom, we never once built shelters."

"Hmm… good point… so we'll gather food first. But, if we have some extra time, I would like to make shelters for us."

"Sounds good, Mr. Frodo. Ordinarily, I would say to look for taters or rabbits, but the odds that this island has either of those things are slim to none, so, for food, let's search all nearby trees for some fruit."

"Okay, Sam."

"What!" Bilbo yelled.

"But, who's taking Bilbo?" Frodo asked.

"What d' you mean by that?" Sam queried.

"Well, we can't just leave him here." Frodo gestured to Bilbo, who was currently teetering along the beach away from them. "He's as blind as a bat and as deaf as…"

"… a doorknob?" Sam supplied, helpfully.

"No, that would be if he were dead."

"Pity he's not." Sam muttered.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing!" Sam innocently said.

"Okay. Well, you get my point about Bilbo, then. So, who's taking him along while gathering fruits?"

"Well, he's _your_ Uncle! That means he's _your_ responsibility."

"Well, you're _my_ servant. That means that you have to take care of _my_ responsibilities." Frodo retorted.

"Oh, taters, you got me there."

"We'll meet back here in an hour." Frodo said. "Try to get as much food as you can."

"Okay."

"What!" Bilbo yelled.

Sam went to one part of the island with Bilbo and collected all of the fruits he could find there. Frodo also gathered as much as he could carry. That night, they ate well and slept under the stars. Actually, only Sam and Bilbo slept. Sam's snoring kept Frodo awake for the whole night and Bilbo, being hard of hearing, couldn't hear Sam's snores.

* * *

**The Hobbit-Haters** (Sauron and Bob)

Bob and Saruon sat on the beach intently watching the other teams work. Since they were evil and malevolent spirits, they had no need for food, water, or shelter, so they did not bother setting up camp or gathering food.

"So, who are you gonna kill first?" Bob asked sarcastically as he and his Lord watched the Ringbearers sleep (with the exception of Frodo, who was trying to get Sam to stop snoring like a oliphaunt with a head cold).

Sauron held up his hand. "Patience my slave."

"Do you have to rub it in?" Bob muttered to himself, crossing his arms.

Sauron was oblivious to this comment. "We shall strike with morning, fear not."

"I'm so anxious." Bob said sarcastically.

"Of course you are. After all, your whole purpose is to serve me!" Sauron said.

Bob silently swore to himself and suddenly thought of a good idea for his wish, if he were to win that is.

* * *

When the sun rose the next morning, the alliances decided to intermingle with each other. All of the alliances, that is, except for the Food-seekers, who were still hopelessly lost in the jungle.

Aragorn was the first to emerge from his shelter, The King's Palace II, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Sometime during the night, he had returned to his shelter after taking care of that pesky monkey.

Gandalf, who had been sitting in an abject state on the beach, praying that the sand would not taint his perfectly white clothing, perked up and smiled at Aragorn.

"Good morning, Aragorn." He said cheerfully. "How was your night?"

Aragorn smiled in remembrance of it. "Excellent. Except for the beginning. A monkey stole my dinner and I had to chase after it."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I managed to catch him, though. He ate all of my bananas that were originally going to be my dinner."

"Really? What happened then?"

"Well," a mischievous, yet satisfied smile crossed Aragorn's mouth, "let's just say that the monkey ended up making up for my missing meal."

Gandalf's mouth formed an 'o' of surprise. "Surely you didn't eat the monkey, you savage!"

Aragorn looked shocked. "Of course not! Why would you think that? No, no, the monkey ended up giving me a bunch of mangos. See?" Aragorn produced a mango from his pocket and took a bite out of it, allowing the juices to run down his face, dripping down and staining his already filthy clothes. This made Gandalf appalled and yet it also made him salivate for a mango at the same time.

"I don't suppose you would want to team up? It's never too late." Gandalf asked Aragorn.

Aragorn scoffed. "Nice try, Nitwit. You haven't done anything but sit on the beach in abject hopelessness since you couldn't happen to find a lackey who would be stupid enough to team up with you."

Gandalf sighed. Well, he'd tried, hadn't he?

Frodo, now realizing that he wasn't the only one up anymore, got up and trudged over to them. His eyes were bloodshot, and he kept on throwing murderous glances at Sam, who had just gotten up and had begun to make breakfast. Bilbo was eagerly waiting for his fried apricots.

"Morning, Gandalf." Frodo muttered. "Morning, Aragorn."

"What's wrong with you?" Aragorn queried.

"I couldn't get a wink of sleep last night. Sam snored like an oliphaunt with a head cold for the whole night. I'm surprised that you guys didn't hear it too."

"Now that you mention it, I did hear something." Aragorn commented. "But it sounded more like one of those annoying flies buzzing in your ear that you can't seem to get rid of than an oliphaunt."

Sam, now finished cooking breakfast, came over to the trio. He was in the process of eating a fried apricot on a stick, which made Gandalf groan in agony and salivate, being careful not to get any saliva on his precious white clothes.

"Morning all!" Sam said, cheerily, spraying pieces of scalding chewed apricot on Aragorn and Frodo. Fortunately, Gandalf was not in the line of fire.

Frodo painfully wiped the chewed apricot off of his face, while Aragorn screamed and yelled, "Gah! It burns!" He ran around in circles, trying to get the disgusting apricots off of his face and out of his hair.

At this point, the racket wakened all of the Dysfunctional Dorks. They walked over to see what all of the fuss was about.

Boromir looked terrible. His hair was messy and stuck all over the place, making it look very much like a poodle with a bad hair-day. A _really_ bad hair-day. He stood in-between Faramir and Denethor, acting as a barrier between them. Denethor shot Faramir death-glares over Boromir and Faramir looked like he would have loved nothing more than to stick molten hot barbed metal into his father's eyes.

"What's going on here?" Boromir groaned. "And why have you disturbed my slumber? Well, actually, why did you disturb these two, who then disturbed me, which means that indirectly, you disturbed me…? Whoa…" He rubbed his head. "That made my head hurt."

"Oh? Your head hurts?" Faramir said. "Then allow me to get something for it." Faramir started for the camp.

Denethor shoved Faramir out of the way. "No, allow me. After all, I am your father."

"But I'm your brother!"

"But I raised you!"

"But I'm actually still alive!"

"That can be changed." Denethor growled.

"You wanna go at it?" Faramir said, holding up his fists and getting in a fighting stance.

"Let's settle this like men." Denethor growled and then slapped Faramir, who gasped in shock and slapped his father back. Soon, they got in a slapfight, which led to them tussling on the ground near Boromir's feet, trying to yank each other's hair out.

"Look, Boromir!" Faramir cried, holding up a fistful of gray hair. "I got some more rope!"

Denethor growled and aimed a punch at Faramir's head. Faramir ducked, which caused Denethor's fist to nail Boromir right in an uncomfortable place between his legs.

All of the on-lookers hissed in empathy, closing their eyes and looking away as Boromir groaned and collapsed on the ground. Immediately, the fighting between Denethor and Faramir suspended as Denethor began to profusely apologize and Faramir looked at his brother in empathy as well, feeling sorry that he had ducked.

"I'm-sorry-I'm-sorry-I'm-sorry-I'm-sorry-I'm-sorry-I'm-sorry-I'm-sorry-I'm-sorry-I'm-sorry-I'm-sorry-I'm-sorry-I'm-sorry!" Denethor quickly said.

"Allow me to get you something, brother!" Faramir said and started for the camp.

Denethor shoved Faramir out of the way. "No, allow me. After all, I am your father."

"But I'm-"

Boromir put up a hand to silence the two of them before they could get into another fight.

"That's… fine…" He hissed between the pain. "I'll… take… care… of… it… myself…" He forced himself to get up and walk to the campsite where he re-entered his squirrel-shelter. An awkward silence ensued in which everyone could hear strangled crying from Boromir's squirrel-shelter as well as cries of "Why me!"

It was then that Sauron and Bob casually meandered over to what remained of the group.

Sauron pointed a finger directly at Frodo. "You! You're the one who destroyed my Ring!" He folded his arms and pouted. "That wasn't very nice!"

"But you're a villain!" Frodo exclaimed. "I don't have to be nice to you!"

Sauron put his hands to the area where he would've had a heart. "That's _reformed_ villain to you! I'm a changed man now. You see, when I died, I did a lot of thinking and I realized how much of a waste my life was when I was pursuing the ultimate destruction of the world, specifically the race of men, and the enslavement of all free living creatures, especially the race of men. No sir, the _ex_-Dark Lord has gone straight."

"You're referring to yourself in the third-person." Faramir commented.

"Insolent boy, stop interrupting people when they're talking!" Denethor snapped.

Faramir shot Denethor a death-glare, which was reciprocated by Denethor.

"Anyway…" Sauron continued his long-winded lie. "I joined this little group they had on my death island. It was…"

"Adults who force-fed children asparagus Anonymous?" Gandalf interjected.

"No… I never did that! Okay… so I may have done it once… but it wasn't to a child! I only did it to torture Gollum into telling me where the Ring was!" Sauron exclaimed.

"So that explains why Stinker was screaming so bad when I threw some asparagus into my rabbit stew. Remember that, Mr. Frodo?" Sam said.

"I do." Frodo said.

"As do I." Interjected Faramir. "Didn't you guys ever wonder why I found you so easily? For one, Smeagol screaming like a little girl could have attracted the Dark, I'm sorry, _ex_-Dark Lord to him. And the other thing was the smell of that stew!"

"Oh, it smelled that good?" Sam asked.

"No, it was awful." Faramir said, bluntly. "It reminded me of the smell of Boromir's old boots that he accidentally forgot in the training ground changing facilities for several months so that mold and fungus could cultivate on them."

Sam's mouth was agape in shock. "Now don't you be goin' around insulting a good Hobbit's cooking!"

"But it was awful! My horse smelled better than it did!"

In an aside to Faramir, Frodo said, "And I'm sure your horse would've tasted a whole lot better, too." Faramir snorted.

Sam, hearing the snort, said, "Oi, mate, if you be dissin' my cookin', let's have at it and settle this like men!"

"Well, I would, except you're not a man." Faramir replied.

"YEARGH!" Sam lunged at Faramir and took him down. They then proceeded to fight, rolling on the ground.

"Come on…" Denethor paused and whispered to Frodo, "What's his name, again?"

"Faramir. He's your son, for crying out loud!"

"No, no! Your short, fat friend."

"Sam."

"Thanks." Denethor replied. "COME ON, SAM! YOU CAN TAKE HIM!"

Hearing this, Boromir emerged from his shelter. "What's going on out here?" He asked while walking towards the fight.

At this point, Faramir and Sam had gotten to their feet and were squaring off. Faramir had his back to his brother, so that Boromir could not get between them and shake them to their senses or see what Sam was doing.

Sam let out another battle-cry of, "YEARGH!" and launched himself in a karate-kick at Faramir, who threw himself to the ground, yelling, "Hit the deck!"

"What?" Boromir said in confusion.

Sam could not stop himself and his foot made contact with the wrong son of Denethor in the place that had been punched not too long ago.

All of spectators, with the exception of Sauron and Bob, gasped in empathy. Faramir rolled over from his awkward position in time to see Boromir collapse on the beach for the second time that day in pain.

It was obvious by his expression that Boromir wanted to rip Sam's arms off and throw him clear across the circumference of Middle Earth. His expression also portrayed a great deal of pain for tears were streaking down his face. However, he tried to remain calm as he said, "Now… if you'll excuse me… I'm going back to my shelter… to have a nice… long… cry…"

Everyone watched, speechless, as Boromir inched along the ground and into his shelter, again. They then heard a great deal of screaming and rather creative oaths, which then subsided into muffled sobs and shouts of "Why me!".

"Anyway, back to my rant!" Sauron said, breaking the awkward silence. "I joined this little group they had on my death island. It was called Evil Villains Anonymous. Bob joined too, right Bob?"

"Sure, I did." Bob said with a subtle hint of sarcasm.

"And that's when we began to change into the wonderful, caring people that we are right now. So, Frodo," Sauron said, "I just wanted to thank you for doing what you did, because it made me see the error in my ways."

"Er… you're welcome?" Frodo replied.

"It's amazing how you can just lie through your teeth like that." Bob whispered to Sauron.

"Shut it!" Sauron snapped at Bob. Then, to Frodo, he said, "And now, I will pat you on the back," Sauron patted Frodo on the back, "shake your hand," Sauron shook Frodo's hand, "and then…"

Before Sauron could say what he was going to say, the monkey that had previously stolen Aragorn's bananas threw a mango at Sauron's head. It hit its target with a splatter.

"…I will kill you." Sauron finished and then started to chase after Frodo, who squealed like a child and ran away.

Sauron yelled, "KILL! KILL! KILL!" He was gaining on Frodo.

(_Announcer: Oh man! The situation is out of control! We need intervention!_)

All of a sudden, tons of elves sprang out of nowhere with bows and arrows. They fired the arrows at Sauron and took him down.

As Sauron fell to the ground and Frodo stopped running around and screaming, one of the elves said, "Night, night, Crazy Guy!"

"But Crazy's over here." Faramir said, indicating Denethor. "Don't you wanna make him go Night-night?"

"No!" Denethor screamed. "The Steward of Gondor goes Night-night when the Steward of Gondor pleases!"

"But you're not the Steward of Gondor anymore!" Faramir pointed out. "I am! Wow! That felt good to say!" Denethor growled lowly like a rabid dog, which fueled Faramir's spite even more. "I'm Steward of Gondor!" He yelled in a sing-song voice. "I'm Steward of Gondor! And you're not, so, neener, neener, neener!" Faramir began doing a gloating dance.

"I hate you, Faramir." Denethor said.

"I know." He said, his mood suddenly falling and he stopped his gloating dance. For having your father's hatred is nothing to do a gloating dance about.

Frodo went over to Sauron and poked him. "Is he dead?" He asked an elf.

"Naw, he's just sleeping." The elf said. "We used our knock-out arrows."

At this point, Arwen spontaneously appeared. "We have our first elimination!" She said. "Sauron, you are banished from this island for attempted murder of a fellow contestant. Goodbye."

Sauron disappeared with a poof. Then, Arwen and the elves disappeared, leaving everyone in stunned silence, only broken by Boromir's continued sobs of pain.

* * *

**Nari**: So what did you think? Good, bad? So terribly horrible that you wanted to smash your computer screen to oblivion? Tell me! I would like to thank everyone who reviewed for my previous chapters! You guys are awesome! Anyways, please leave lots of reviews! 


	4. Second Elimination

Disclaimer: Still don't own either of them.

* * *

(_Announcer: Last time on Stranded, we had our first elimination of Sauron, the Dark Lord! Whew! I'm glad he went so soon! I can't even begin to imagine the horror of what would happen if he got the wish! Anyways, this time on Stranded, yet another elimination occurs! Who will go and who will stay?_)

* * *

**The King of the Island** (Aragorn) 

"So, my loyal subject, what have you brought for me?" Aragorn asked. Somehow, he had contrived a wooden throne to sit on, which stood next to 'The King's Palace II'. On top of his head, he wore a sculpted wooden crown.

The monkey, who was the subject-in-question, chattered something and extended its offering towards Aragorn.

The monkey had brought Aragorn a large heap of various fruits, such as bananas, mangoes, coconuts, and pomegranates.

"Excellent, my subject!" Aragorn said. "You have done well!"

The monkey chattered with pleasure.

"Now, let us reap the rewards of this bountiful harvest and feast like the great ones that we are!"

The monkey let out a cheer and began to gorge himself with food as Aragorn did the same.

"You know," Aragorn said to the monkey, "it's getting rather tedious to call you 'my subject', even though that is what you are. Perhaps I should take it upon myself to grant you a name. Would you like that?"

The monkey chattered in enthusiasm.

"Excellent… now I must think of a name fitting for one so noble and obedient… Let me think…"

* * *

**The Food-Seekers** (Merry, Pippin, and Gimli) 

"Merry?" Pippin said.

"What, Pip?" Merry replied in a thoroughly vexed voice.

"I'm hungry!"

"I know, Pip! We're all starved! So will you quit stating the obvious every three seconds?" Merry snapped.

"But I'm hungry!"

Merry twitched and considered knocking Pippin's head against a random tree. But, then again, that wouldn't be very fair to the tree…

Gimli sniffed the air. "Do you smell that?" He asked.

"Smell what?" Merry and Pippin asked, sniffing the air.

"It smells like…" Gimli began.

"APPLE CINNAMON MUFFINS!" Pippin cried with joy and raced off in the direction of the scent. Gimli bellowed with joy and ran after Pippin.

"Wait!" Merry cried, running after the two hunger-crazed Food-seekers. "It's probably not really apple cinnamon muffins! It's probably just your minds playing tricks on you!"

As soon as Merry said this, he came to a brief clearing in the large jungle around them. Pippin and Gimli stood in the middle of the clearing, looking up at a tree. The scent of apple-cinnamon muffins overpowered Merry's nostrils and he salivated.

"I don't believe it…" Merry said, looking up at the tree in astonishment. For on the tree, there were several apple-cinnamon muffins.

Pippin and Gimli continued to smile, flaunting their discovery.

"I guess they really _do_ grow on trees." Merry said to them.

* * *

**The Nitwit** (Gandalf) 

Gandalf sat on the beach in abject hopelessness. His stomach groaned in complaint at its lacking of food and he could do nothing to fulfill its need, lest he risk staining his perfectly white garbs.

Gandalf sighed in his depression and picked up a stick lying on the beach. He moved his stick around in the sand and began to doodle on it.

Faramir was walking along on the beach to see this. He stood over Gandalf for a few moments to see what the wizard was drawing.

"What's that supposed to be?" Faramir asked, pointing to Gandalf's doodle.

"It's a giant eagle." Gandalf said. "See? This is the head." Gandalf used the stick to point to a poorly drawn squiggly circle. "This is the body." Gandalf pointed to a poorly drawn oval. "And those are the wings." Gandalf pointed to two also poorly drawn triangles on each side of the oval.

"Oh, really?" Faramir turned his head to one side. "Yeah, I guess it could be that, too. I thought you were trying to draw a map of Middle Earth or you were trying to do some type of abstract modern artsy thing."

"Nope. It's an eagle."

"You're really pathetic..." Faramir started.

"Says the man who's afraid of squirrels."

Faramir twitched and abandoned what he was originally going to say. "Well, at least I'm not afraid of dirt!" Gandalf shuddered and Faramir picked up a bunch of dirt and held it in front of Gandalf.

Gandalf screamed. "Don't get that so close! I might get a stain!"

Faramir smirked and made a wind-up motion as if to fling the sand at Gandalf. He wasn't really going to do it; it was just so fun to scare the wizard.

Of course, Gandalf didn't know this, so he tried to distract Faramir. "Hey, look! There's a squirrel behind you!"

Faramir gave a cry and turned around. When he didn't see one, he said, "Hey! There's no squirrel behind me!"

"He's invisible."

Faramir frowned. "Come on, Gandalf, you and I both know that squirrels can't be-"

"Ah! Look! He just turned visible!"

Faramir screamed and whirled around. Again, there was nothing there. "Don't even joke about such a thing, Gandalf!" Faramir cried. "It wasn't even that funny!"

Gandalf was getting a good chuckle in.

"You know," Faramir said, "I was coming over here to offer my services to you since Crazy's a big pain in the butt, but, if this is the way you're going to treat me, I'll just leave you and endure him." Faramir turned on his heel and walked off.

"Faramir! Wait! I was just kidding! Come back!" Gandalf yelled.

"Not happening, Nitwit!" Faramir yelled from afar.

* * *

**The Dysfunctional Dorks** (Boromir, Faramir, and Denethor) 

Faramir walked over to where Boromir and Denethor were eating some fruits that Denethor had found.

"Hey, Boromir! Did you save anything for me?" Faramir asked.

"No!" Denethor exclaimed. "Get your own stinkin' food!"

Boromir rolled his eyes and gave Faramir a fruit. "Here you go, little brother." He said.

"Thanks, Boromir." Faramir said and took a bite out of the fruit. "I'm glad to see that _someone_ here cares about me!" He shot a glare at Denethor.

"What do you mean by that?" Denethor said in a dangerous voice and looked Faramir straight in the eye.

Faramir glared right back at his father, "Well, it's quite obvious, really-"

Boromir got up to play interference. "Come on, now!" He said. "Let's not tear each other's heads off. Remember, we're a team! We have to work together!"

Denethor glared at Faramir. Faramir glared back.

"Oh, for pity's sake, stop fighting!" Boromir said.

They continued their stare-off.

Boromir sighed in frustration. "If I win the contest, I'm going to wish for mediation for the two of you. Honestly, I'm not sure if I'll be able to stand an eternity of you two bickering!"

Denethor and Faramir ignored the fuming Boromir.

"I might as well be talking to a pair of coconuts!" Boromir yelled at them, and then he turned on his heel and started to head off into the jungle to make a dramatic exit when he saw _it_.

A squirrel was sitting on the fringes of their camp. It was observing what was transpiring through its sad, big, black eyes. It stared into Boromir's eyes and Boromir felt the need to talk to the little thing.

"Hello, little guy." Boromir said.

Faramir turned around from the stare-off with Denethor, ignoring Denethor's "Hah! I win! Neener, neener, neener!"

"What is it, Boromir?" Faramir asked as he walked up next to Boromir. Then, he saw the cute little squirrel. "AAAAH! IT'S A SQUIRREL! HOLD ME, BROTHER!"

Faramir jumped into were he thought Boromir's arms would be to catch him, but they weren't there. Boromir was staring at something else with wide, frightened eyes.

"AAAAH!" Boromir said, pointing to an Uruk-Hai that was standing on the fringes of the jungle. "IT'S THE ORC THAT KILLED ME! HOLD ME, DADDY!" Boromir jumped into Denethor's arms and buried his head in Denethor's chest like a frightened child.

Denethor stared at Faramir in terror. "AAAAH! IT'S FARAMIR! HOLD ME, RANDOM SQUIRREL!" Denethor leaped on the squirrel, which gave a squeak of pain and was no more.

"Oh, thanks, Father!" Faramir said, happily. "I didn't know you cared!"

"I hate you, Faramir." Denethor said.

"What? How could you do this to me? I thought you loved me, Father!" Faramir cried as he ran away from the whole scene.

Legolas took of the Uruk-Hai mask, snickered at Boromir's reaction, and vanished into the jungle.

"Uh… Boromir?" Denethor said.

"Yes, Daddy?" Boromir replied in a childish voice.

"You can let go now. Anytime. Please."

"Is the Orc gone?"

"Yes, son."

"Promise?"

"Yes, son, now let go."

Boromir let go of Denethor and straightened himself up. "Thanks, Father." He resumed his normal voice and got up, trying to maintain the little scrap of dignity that remained. "I'll go find Faramir right now." He walked away to look for Faramir.

Denethor got up and looked at the remains of the dead squirrel, thoughtfully. Then, he looked at their campfire…

* * *

**The Ringbearers** (Frodo, Sam, and Bilbo) 

(_Announcer: It was the night before tomorrow and all through the island,_

_Not a creature was stirring… except for Frodo._)

"Sam…" Frodo groaned as the fat Hobbit continued to snore. "Could you please stop snoring?"

Sam continued to snore like an oliphant with a head cold. Frodo groaned and kicked Sam. He just sighed and rolled over.

Frodo growled angrily. "WAKE UP, SAM!" He yelled in his ear. Sam did not respond.

"What was that?" Bilbo yelled.

"Nothing, Bilbo." Frodo replied. "You can go back to sleep, now."

"Lobelia, is that you?" Bilbo said. "I heard that Otho died. Pity. But, now that he's out of the way, do you want to get hitched?"

Frodo gagged for several reasons. One, Bilbo thought he was Lobelia. Two, Lobelia Sackville-Baggins was a rather nasty Hobbit who had always wanted to own Bag-End after Bilbo died; it was revolting to Frodo to think that Bilbo could fancy her at all. Three, Bilbo thought he was Lobelia. Four, Bilbo and Lobelia were related. Five, _Bilbo thought he was Lobelia._

"What do you say, Lobelia? I can wait as long as you want."

Frodo ran away, screaming.

* * *

**The Hobbit-Haters** (Previously Sauron and Bob) (Now, it's just Bob) 

Bob sat on the beach, alone, contemplating the meaning of his existence. It was so surreal to finally be rid of the menace that was his Master.

But now what? He had been in his Master's service for thousands of years. He had even had to put up with Sauron in the afterlife. Now that he was finally gone, what would Bob do?

Bob sighed. This proved the point he had been trying to prove to Sauron for all those years. Being a slave to someone for all of the eternities was unhealthy. It took away all individual thought and functionality.

Bob watched as Frodo ran away from the Ringbearers' campsite. He couldn't help but chuckle at the witless Halfling.

Bob then turned back to his thoughts. Perhaps he should try to make an alliance with someone now that Sauron was no more. Yeah, like that would really work. Nobody trusted him because they thought that he was still evil.

Bob stared out at the sea and sighed.

"Life isn't fair." Bob moaned to himself.

"Tell me about it." Faramir said, sitting beside the Nazgul, looking out at the sea.

"Well, I've been enslaved to an egocentric megalomaniac for the past thousand years. What about you?"

"Family problems."

"I see."

"And my father has a strange obsession with burning things. He tried to light me on fire once, you know."

Bob cringed. "I can relate. Have you ever had a psychotic, eighty-something-year-old man throwing torches of fire at you?"

"Does my father count?"

"Sure."

"Then yes."

"Did you ever catch on fire?"

"Once or twice."

"Ah. So did I when that psychotic Ranger threw torches at me on Weathertop… you know, he's actually here on this island."

"Really?"

"Yeah, he's that guy with the monkey."

"You mean Aragorn?"

"Yeah, he's the guy. Isildur's heir."

"I'm his Steward."

"Oh. I'm so sorry." There was a moment of silence between the two as they wallowed in self-pity. Then, Bob continued to speak. "Hey, do you want to make an alliance?"

"What?"

"We could be called the Pitiful People, or the Whiner-Babies."

"Uh… no."

"Right, then." Bob replied.

"Thanks for the talk." Faramir said and walked away.

"Sure… whatever."

* * *

**The Dysfunctional Dorks** (Boromir, Faramir, and Denethor) (a continuation…) 

After talking to Bob, Faramir found another, more pitiful place to sit and contemplate his life. In retrospect, it was horrible. Faramir took a few moments to have a nice, long cry (which is very rare) before he heard footsteps on the sand. He looked up and saw Boromir.

"Faramir!" Boromir cried. "There you are! I've been looking all over for you!" Boromir noticed the abject way that Faramir was sitting on the beach and crying. Boromir sat down beside him. "What's wrong?" He asked.

"Boromir, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure. What is it?"

Faramir stared out at the sea, contemplatively. "What's the afterlife like?"

Boromir's eyes widened. "Whoa, there! I don't like that look in your eye! More importantly, I don't like where this is going! Faramir, do you need your anti-depression medication again?"

Faramir twitched. "No! The last time I took that, I got these weird dreams about Isildur's Bane and some stupid sword! And look where that got us!"

"Too true, little brother. Too true…" Boromir sighed. "Well, we should probably get back to Father. We don't want another incident #47!"

"Incident #47!" Faramir gasped. "Okay, let's go!"

… …

"BURN! BURN! BURN!" Denethor cackled as he thrust the dead squirrel's funeral pyre into the large, blazing ritual fire. He cackled with sickly delight as the flames began to consume the squirrel. Denethor danced around the fire with joy.

In the process of making his big fire, Denethor set fire to the whole campsite and the foliage around him. He, however, did not notice this. He focused with morbid fascination as the flames grew from their token of the deceased squirrel.

"OH NO!" Boromir cried as he and Faramir arrived on the scene. "IT'S ANOTHER INCIDENT #47!"

"MY ANTI-SQUIRREL FORTS!" Faramir yelled. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

"FARAMIR, YOU KNOW WHAT TO DO!"

"RIGHT!" Faramir stopped, dropped, and rolled.

"NO, THAT'S INCIDENT #48, CRAZY SETS YOU ON FIRE! THIS IS INCIDENT #47!"

Denethor saw Faramir and got a mad glint in his eye. "More fuel!" He cackled and went over to start to pick Faramir up.

"I'LL SAVE YOU, BROTHER!" Boromir lunged at Denethor. Denethor, however, moved aside and picked up Faramir, so Boromir jumped right into the fire.

"OH NO!" Faramir yelled. "INCIDENT #1! BOROMIR IS A CLUTZ AND DOES SOMETHING INCREDIBLY STUPID! STOP, DROP, AND ROLL, BOROMIR! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, STOP, DROP, AND ROLL!"

Boromir, who had flames attacking every part of his body, screamed and stopped, dropped, and rolled all the way into the ocean on the coast. The water hissed and steam rose.

"I'M OKAY!" Boromir yelled. "AAAH! IS THAT A SHARK? AAAAHHHHHHH!"

Denethor and Faramir cringed.

"DON'T WORRY! I'M STILL OKAY! THE BLEEDING SHOULD STOP IN A FEW MINUTES."

Denethor and Faramir sighed in relief and Denethor made the motion to throw Faramir into the fire, but then Boromir said. "HEY, IS THAT A JELLYFISH? AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!! I'M HIGHLY ALLERGIC!"

Denethor and Faramir both paused and winced.

"I'M OKAY!" Boromir said. "THE SWELLING SHOULD GO DOWN IN A FEW DAYS!"

Denethor and Faramir both sighed in relief. At this point, Frodo came crashing onto the scene.

"What's with all the noise? I go away and I'm able to finally get some sleep and then you guys wake me up! You're so obnoxious, you're even worse than Sam, and I didn't even think that was possible!" Frodo yelled.

"Uh…" Denethor and Faramir said.

* * *

**The Food-Seekers** (Merry, Pippin, and Gimli) (a continuation…) 

"Merry?"

"What now, Pip?" Merry snapped. Pippin had just woken him up from his sleep. "We just ate an hour ago, so you can't possibly be hungry… can you?"

"I smell smoke." Pippin said.

"So do I!" Gimli said.

Merry sniffed the air. "Yeah, I smell it too! And where there's smoke…"

"…there's people!" Gimli and Pippin finished.

"And where there's people…" Merry said.

"…there's food!" Pippin said. He received blank stares from the other two. "What? I'm hungry!"

"Pippin, we just ate an hour ago! Besides, if you're hungry, you could always just pick another apple-cinnamon muffin from the tree!"

"Right…" Pippin said. "Forgot about that…"

"But the smoke could lead us out of the jungle and to the other teams!" Merry exclaimed. "So let's track the smoke!"

They all paused and heard a distant shout of, "INCIDENT #1… SOMETHING INCREDIBLY STUPID! STOP, DROP, AND ROLL…! …STOP, DROP, AND ROLL!"

"Faramir!" They all yelled and ran off in the direction of the smoke.

* * *

**The King of the Island** (Aragorn) (a continuation…) 

First, Aragorn smelt smoke. He tried to ignore it, figuring that it was his fire dying down. Then, he heard distant shouts. What really woke him up, however, was Faramir's voice saying, "…INCREDIBLY STUPID… BOROMIR… ROLL!"

Aragorn sat up, wide awake. He awakened his subject and they hastened to the scene to see what was happening.

* * *

**The Ringbearers** (Bilbo and Sam) (Frodo, mind you, is away…) (a continuation…) 

Bilbo and Sam were fast asleep.

Bilbo was dreaming about Clarice.

Sam was still snoring like an oliphaunt with a head cold and was dreaming about taters.

They slept peacefully through the night without any disturbances.

* * *

**The Nitwit** (Gandalf) (a continuation…) 

Gandalf was sitting on the beach. His eyes were open, yet he was sound asleep. Suddenly, he awoke when he heard noises from a place not too far off. He smelled smoke. Then, he heard the following:

"…BOROMIR IS A CLUTZ AND… INCREDIBLY STUPID! STOP… BOROMIR! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, STOP…!" Faramir's voice cried.

Then, Gandalf saw a fiery object roll down the beach and hit the water with a hiss.

"Is that…?" Gandalf mused to himself, but only to be interrupted by Boromir's cry of:

"I'M OKAY! AAAH! IS THAT A SHARK? AAAAHHHHHHH!"

Gandalf saw the water near him frothing. Then, something large swam away. Then, he heard Boromir say:

"DON'T WORRY! I'M STILL OKAY! THE BLEEDING SHOULD STOP IN A FEW MINUTES… HEY, IS THAT A JELLYFISH? AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!! I'M HIGHLY ALLERGIC!"

There was a brief hiatus and then Boromir said:

"I'M OKAY! THE SWELLING SHOULD GO DOWN IN A FEW DAYS!"

It was then, and only then, that Gandalf decided to see what was happening. Slowly, so that he would not mar his perfectly white outfit, he got up and _slowly_ walked to the scene.

* * *

**Incidents #1, 47, and 48**

"FATHER! PLEASE! DON'T! I'M BEGGING YOU! DON'T THROW ME INTO THE FIRE! I'M TOO YOUNG TO DIE!" Faramir yelled.

Denethor was about to throw Faramir into the flames to make them go higher. Frodo was watching the surreal scene.

At this point, Pippin burst from out of the foliage, screaming, "NO! DON'T BURN HIM! HE'S STILL ALIVE!"

Denethor looked at Pippin and groaned. "This seems very familiar…" He said.

Pippin lunged at Denethor and tackled him, causing Denethor to drop Faramir on the ground.

"YOU'RE NOT BURNING FARAMIR ALIVE AGAIN!" Pippin yelled, beating up the old man. When Denethor had passed out and had a thorough nosebleed, Pippin still did not relent.

Then, Merry and Gimli burst through the now burning foliage, brushing the embers off of them. Gimli actually ended up stopping, dropping, and rolling when his beard slightly caught on fire.

"What's going on?" Merry asked Frodo.

"I must be dreaming…" Frodo said. "I must be dreaming…"

Merry rolled his eyes and said nothing.

Aragorn suddenly came running from area on the beach where he was sleeping. His monkey-subject followed him.

"Faramir!" Aragorn yelled. "What's going on? I heard something about a stupid thing, Boromir, and rolling! Why's everything on fire? Why's Pippin giving Crazy a nosebleed?"

"Crazy set our camp, and the surrounding jungle, on fire. He tried to chuck me into the flames and Boromir tried to stop him. Boromir caught on fire and stopped, dropped, and rolled into the ocean. Then, he got attacked by a shark and some jellyfish. Then, Frodo, Pippin, Gimli, and Merry showed up and Pippin beat up Crazy before he could use me to make the blaze bigger!" Faramir reported to Aragorn. "But, that doesn't matter right now! We have to put this fire out before it consumes the whole jungle!"

"Right!" Aragorn said. He turned to his monkey-subject and said, "Elessar Elfstone Telcontar Arwino Longshanks Thorongil Estel Strider Chuck Aragorn III, my subject, go get some water to quench these flames!"

Elessar Elfstone Telcontar Arwino Longshanks Thorongil Estel Strider Chuck Aragorn III chattered in compliancy and went off to fetch some water. Everyone else just stared at Aragorn.

"What?" Aragorn asked. "Why are you all staring at me?"

"You named the monkey Elessar Elfstone Telcontar Arwino Longshanks Thorongil Estel Strider Chuck Aragorn III?" Faramir asked.

"What's wrong with that?" Aragorn asked.

"Aragorn, all of those are your names with a 'the Third' at the end. Well, most of them are; I don't know where you got the 'Arwino' or the 'Chuck' part." Faramir replied.

"Well, they're good names! And we just call him 'Chuck' for short!"

"Right…" Faramir said. "Well, I suppose we should all get water." Aragorn started to open his mouth. "And don't give any excuses about being exempt from doing so because you're the King of Gondor! That's not working this time!" Aragorn shut his mouth.

With that, Faramir, Aragorn, Merry, Pippin, Gimli, and Frodo went off to get water to quench the fire. Faramir purposely left the unconscious Denethor where he was, secretly hoping that Denethor would catch on fire.

* * *

"Come on!" Faramir yelled. "Keep working!" 

"Who put you in charge?" Aragorn snapped. "I should rightfully be since, after all, I am the King of Gondor!"

"Fine! Aragorn's in charge!" Faramir replied.

With the hard work of all of the people there, they had almost managed to put out the fire. At this point, Gandalf showed up, still being careful not to get a stain on his precious white robes.

"Faramir, what's going on here? I heard you say something about Boromir being a clutz and incredibly stupid. Then, I heard you telling Boromir to stop. Then, I saw something flaming roll into the ocean. Then, I heard-"

Faramir held up a hand to stop Gandalf's long-winded narration. "Basically, Crazy was playing with fire again and Boromir got hurt. He's okay, I think… Maybe he's not… Hmmm… I guess in retrospect I should have gone down there to see if he was okay… Oh well… But, right now, we're going to try to put the fire out. Can you help us?"

"I would like to, but…"

"But what?"

"But…" Gandalf looked at his clothes, mournfully. "…I might get a stain."

Everyone snorted.

"A stain? So that's what this is about? A stain?" Faramir said.

"Yes." Gandalf replied. "I don't want to taint my perfectly white outfit."

Pippin snorted. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard of!"

Gandalf's eyes blazed with rage. "Is it so stupid, Fool of a Took? Is it really? If I get a stain, I'm no longer Gandalf the White! Instead I'd be Gandalf the Mostly-White-With-A-Small-Stain-On-His-Clothes-Color! So, tell me, Fool of a Took, do you still think it's so trivial?"

"Yes." Pippin replied. "Most definitely yes."

Gandalf fumed. "Fine, I'll help you! But, mark my words, if I get one speck of dirt on my clothes, Fool of a Took, you'll be paying for my dry-cleaning!"

"Can't you even get my name right?" Pippin muttered. "It's Pippin!"

* * *

They had labored throughout the night to put the fire out. All that was left was a small ember. Gandalf was quite relieved, for he had managed to keep his clothes perfectly stainless. 

"I've got the last bucket!" Gandalf cried. Somehow when they were firefighting, someone had contrived several buckets.

Gandalf threw the last bucket of water on the ember. And then, that's when it happened.

Gandalf saw it coming in slow motion. A group of wet ashes was flying towards his white robes. There was no way out.

Gandalf let out a cry of anguish as the ashes landed on his perfectly white robes, tainting them.

"MY ROBES! NOOOOOOOOO! THEY ARE NO LONGER PERFECTLLY WHITE! THEY ARE TAINTED!" Gandalf dropped to the ground, sobbing. "No… no… no!"

Gandalf then summoned the Eagles and hopped onto one of them. "Adieu! Eagles, take me to the nearest drycleaner!" He cried and the Eagles took off, bearing Gandalf off of the horrid island to the closest dry cleaners.

Everyone else just stared into the morning horizon after Gandalf in disbelief.

Arwen suddenly appeared, looking rather perplexed. "Okay… that was unexpected…" She said. "Well… um… we have our second elimination! Uh… Gandalf the Gr- I'm sorry, White is eliminated for leaving the island! Well, that was certainly strange…"

Everyone else nodded in agreement.

"Well, aside to tell you about the elimination, I have news for you! Be warned! The first voting off will be taking place soon! Remember, you've been warned!" With that, Arwen disappeared with a flash of light.

At that point, a squelching sound was heard and a distorted figure covered in seaweed walked over.

"AH! IT'S A SEA MONSTER!" Everyone yelled.

"What are you talking about?" The 'sea-monster' asked.

"AH! IT'S A TALKING SEA MONSTER!" Everyone yelled.

"Seriously, guys, what are you talking about?" The 'sea-monster', oblivious to his appearance, said, looking around to see what they were clamoring about. "I don't see any sea monster!"

"Stay away from us!"

"Guys, come on! It's just me!" Boromir, or it would seem it was him, shed his coat of seaweed.

"AH!" They all screamed.

"What? What's wrong?"

In truth, there were many things wrong with Boromir. For one thing, his face was swollen to be the size of a grapefruit so that his eyes were practically shut and it was purple. His clothes were in tatters and had several scorch marks on them. He also had many-a-deep scrape on his flesh. One of his eyebrows was missing, probably due to the fact that it had been scorched away. His hair, too, was several inches shorter than it had previously been.

"Uh… Boromir?" Faramir said.

"What?"

"Your face."

"What about it?"

"It's…"

Boromir groaned and put a hand to his face. "It happened again, didn't it?"

"Yes." Faramir replied.

Everyone else looked at them for an explanation.

"I'm highly allergic to jellyfish." Boromir explained. "We found out the hard way one time when we were visiting Dol Amroth when I was seven and I was playing in the water and a jellyfish stung me. I puffed up to be about twice my size and I had to spend two weeks in the Houses of Healing. After that… no more sea vacations…"

Denethor sat up, suddenly, for he had just regained consciousness. "I remember that… AUGH! BOROMIR! YOUR FACE!"

Boromir's face turned a deeper purple. "Thanks for reminding me…"

"As entertaining as Boromir's suffering is…" Aragorn said. "I think I'll be leaving now… After all, I have important business to attend to! Come along, Chuck, let's go!"

Chuck complied and left the scene along with Aragorn. Eventually, the rest of the contestants dispersed, leaving Boromir, Faramir, and Denethor alone.

"Aragorn named his monkey Chuck?" Boromir asked Faramir, raising his remaining eyebrow.

"No, actually, Chuck's the monkey's nickname. The monkey's real name is…" Faramir took a deep breath. "Elessar Elfstone Telcontar Arwino Longshanks Thorongil Estel Strider Chuck Aragorn III!"

Boromir groaned. "Oh, mercy! We've got a loony for a king!"

Faramir gave a weak smile and whispered to Boromir, "It's an improvement over a psychotic and overall crazy Steward."

"Too true, little brother." Boromir replied.

"I hate you, Faramir." Denethor said.

"I know." Faramir replied.

* * *

(_Announcer: Next time on Stranded… the first voting off occurs! What will happen and how will this affect our contestants? And, more importantly, who will be voted off? Will it be… The King of the Island, A Food-Seeker, A Ringbearer, A Dysfunctional Dork, or the Hobbit-Hater? Find out next time!_)

* * *

Wow… I think I just broke the record of my longest chapter! Yay! 

So… what did you all think of that chapter? Was it good or was it pure torture to endure? I like to know these things, so please tell me!

Oh, by the way, with Chuck the monkey (I don't feel like writing out his whole name again)... Did I get all of Aragorn's names or were there any missing ones? There might be, considering I just thought of the names off of the top of my head. Anyway, if any were missing, kindly inform me and I'll go back to this chapter and fix it!

I would like to thank those of you who reviewed for the last chapter, so… Thank you!

Well, out of fear for making this any longer, I will now conclude this chapter in my traditional way… Please leave lots of reviews!


	5. Third Elimination

Sorry I didn't update as soon as I would have liked. The site wouldn't let me upload documents for three days.

And now, without further adieu, I give you the next chapter to this story! Yay!

* * *

_(Announcer: This time on Stranded, the voting off occurs. But, before that happens, let's check in on all of our teams to see what they're doing to survive on the island! Isn't it so exciting?)_

* * *

**The Dysfunctional Dorks** (Boromir, Faramir, and Denethor) 

Boromir walked into the half-charred jungle with a hand to his face.

"I wonder how bad it really is…" He murmured to himself as his finger went over one of his charred off eyebrows. "I really wish I had a mirror right now…"

As soon as he said those words, Boromir tripped on something, falling face-first into a large mud puddle. He sputtered and got up and looked to see what he had tripped over. After looking on the ground, he found something unnatural on it and picked it up.

It was a round, dark green object that had hinges on one side of it. When Boromir flipped it over, it had some writing on it in a lighter shade of green.

"L.G." Boromir read out loud. "L… and then a G… Light Green? Largely Gross? Lord G? Lady G? Hmm…" He looked at what else was engraved on the mysterious object. It was a light green leaf. "Leafy Green?" Boromir thought aloud to himself, still trying to solve the mystery of this object.

He observed it more, turning it over and over in his hands. "What is this thing?" He murmured. He turned it over a few more times in his burned hands. Suddenly, he noticed something else about this mysterious object. There was a seam that ran down the middle and connected itself to the hinges.

"I think I'm supposed to open it…" Boromir thought aloud. He managed to pry it open and inside… he saw a hideous picture of a man. His face was the size of a grapefruit so that his eyes were practically shut and it was purple. One of his eyebrows was missing and looked as if it had been scorched away. His hair was also uneven and some bits looked charred. He had some mud on his face as well as in his hair. When Boromir saw this image, he screamed and threw the hideous picture away from himself.

Putting a hand to his heart, he said, "I feel really bad for whoever that Lord G is if that's a picture of him. Or if that's Lady G's husband…" Boromir shuddered. "I pity her. Wait a minute…" Boromir went over to where he had thrown the "picture". When he looked at it now, it reflected the sky, except for one large crack down the middle.

Boromir picked it up and looked into it. The hideous man re-appeared. Boromir grimaced. The man in the picture grimaced. Boromir put a finger to his nose. So did the man in the picture.

"Wait a minute… that's not a picture!" Boromir cried out. "That's me!" He looked into the broken compact mirror and put a hand to his face in horror. "My face! Why? Why!"

He then heard a cry of, "OI, BOROMIR!"

"WHAT? WHO IS IT?" Boromir responded.

"C'MERE! I NEED YOUR HELP WITH RE-BUILDING OUR CAMPSITE AFTER WHAT FATHER DID TO IT!" Faramir replied.

"OKAY! I'M COMING!" Boromir replied and walked away, carrying the broken compact mirror with him.

Legolas let out a cry of despair behind the tree he had used for hiding. "My mirror! No!" He was about to go after Boromir, when Glorfindel put a hand to Legolas' mouth and restrained him.

"Shh!" Glorfindel said. "Don't blow our cover!"

"Oh, fine!" Legolas said, and took out another identical compact mirror, opened it, and admired how good his hair looked in this light.

"I'm here, Faramir." Boromir said. "What do you need me to do?"

Faramir turned around, saw Boromir, and gasped and jumped several feet into the air.

"What?"

"Sorry, Boromir! I'm just not used to seeing you like that!" Faramir apologized.

"It's okay, Faramir." Boromir said with a sigh and flipped out the compact mirror and looked at himself in its broken surface. "Neither am I! Hey, Faramir? What do you think 'L.G.' stands for?"

"'L.G'?" Faramir re-iterated. "I don't really know. Why?"

"I found this compact mirror when I was walking in the jungle… I think I tripped over it." Boromir explained as he handed the compact mirror to Faramir, who daintily took it and examined it. "It has the initials 'L.G.' engraved in it."

"'L.G.'" Faramir murmured, running a hand over the script. "Hmmm… Perhaps it belongs to one of the elves who captured us and took us to the island… But that's just a guess…"

"It could be…" Boromir murmured.

"You were the one who went to Rivendell. Can you remember any Elven names with the initials of 'L.G.'?" Faramir asked Boromir.

"Well… let me think…" Boromir mused, tapping his chin with a finger. "There was this one elf… the one who brought Frodo to Rivendell. Oh, what was his name? Ah, yes! Now I remember! Lord Glorfindel!"

"Hmmm… could be." Faramir replied. "Did this 'Lord Glorfindel' fellow seem like the kind who would be vain enough to carry around a compact mirror?"

Boromir shrugged. "I didn't know him that well."

Faramir sighed and opened the compact mirror to see if it would give any more clues of who owned it. He gasped.

"What is it?" Boromir asked.

"There's a crack in the mirror!" Faramir replied as if that would explain everything.

"Yeah, so? I broke it when I threw it away from me!" Boromir replied.

"_You_ broke the mirror!"

"Yes. So?"

"Don't you know what that means?"

"No."

"If you break a mirror, you get seven years of bad luck!"

"So? I'm dead! I don't give a Nazgul's toe-clippings about the superstitions of the living!" Boromir retorted.

"No, Boromir, you don't understand! Right now, you're living! If you have bad luck, you might not win the contest! And if one of us doesn't win the contest, we won't get our wish of you living and so on and so forth. Plus, imagine if Father had the wish… Imagine it, Boromir! Imagine all of the forests in the world… BURNING! _BURNING_!" He reiterated to reinforce his point.

"Oh, don't worry, Faramir." Boromir said. "I think I'd be more unlucky if I were to stay on the island. So, since I have seven years of bad luck, I'm going to make it to the final round of this competition!"

"I don't follow."

"Well, Faramir, think about it. Ever since I've been on this competition I've had nothing but grief. I've had to deal with you and Father's quarreling, being kicked in uncomfortable places, and I've been set on fire, mauled by sharks, and stung by jellyfish!"

"Hmm… good point."

"Exactly… so aside from more of these incidents appearing, we have nothing to worry about!" Boromir reasoned. "Whoa… wait a minute! Was I just more logical than you?"

"It would seem that way."

"Wow… what's this world coming to? Next thing you know, Father might join Green Peace!"

"Who knows? Well, anyway, I believe you. But, you're not helping with the construction of the anti-squirrel forts! Your bad luck might taint them!"

"Okay… I'll just stand over here and watch." Boromir said, stepping over to sit down under a palm tree that had been spared from Denethor's pyrotechnics. "Where is Father, anyway?"

A mischievous smile crossed Faramir's face. "Let's just say that Father agreed to be cooperative and decided to stay out of the way…"

A muffled cry came from behind a bunch of foliage. Faramir stiffened, but tried to remain normal.

"Is that…?" Boromir said, getting up from under the palm tree and making his way over to the foliage. He moved it and suddenly smiled. "It is!" Boromir laughed. "I must say, little brother, your knotsmanship is quite commendable!"

Denethor was behind the foliage. He had been gagged by a ripped-off piece of cloth. His wrists were bound behind his back with some gray rope. His feet were tied together by the same type of gray rope that bound his wrists.

Denethor glared up at Faramir and said, "Mrph myrph mrph myrphermir!"

"I know." Faramir replied.

"Is that rope what I think it is?" Boromir said, stooping over to take a closer look.

Faramir smiled. "Yes, that's Father's hair! What can I say, you inspired me!" His expression suddenly sobered. "I guess we should untie him now, right?"

"Oh, heavens, no!" Boromir said, waving a dismissing hand. "He'll be much less of an obstruction and a pain in the butt the way he is! Plus, he won't be able to cause any more forest fires if his hands are bound!"

Denethor's eyes widened. "Mrph! Mrph! Mrph mraph mmph miffilemif! Myrfflemrph!" He said.

"What did he say?" Boromir asked.

"He said, and I quote, 'Wait! No! What are you doing? Boromir!' End quote." Faramir replied.

"Oh… well, we're still not untying him."

Faramir's mood brightened, again. "Okay, then! I'll just get back to work on repairing our camp! And you just sit there under that palm tree!"

Boromir sat down and Faramir turned his back to him to work on the anti-squirrel forts. Denethor squirmed on the ground, trying to break free of his bonds. He also cursed himself for using all of that volumizing and strengthening shampoo for his hair before he died.

Suddenly, there was a sound of something hard falling upon something equally hard. "Ow!" Boromir exclaimed, rubbing his head.

Faramir whirled around. "What is it?"

"A **(censored)** coconut hit me on the **(censored)** head!" Boromir replied. "**(censored) **bad luck!"

Faramir gasped. "Boromir, watch your language!"

"Sorry." Boromir muttered, still rubbing his head.

"Mrph myrph mrph myrphermirf!" Denethor said.

"I know." Faramir replied.

* * *

**The Food-Seekers** (Merry, Pippin, and Gimli) 

"Merry?"

"What, Pip?" Merry replied, even though he knew what was coming.

"I'm hungry!"

"You know, Pip, that's really getting annoying," Merry said.

"Yeah!" Gimli said.

"Sorry!" Pippin said. "I can't help it!"

"Whatever! Now that we know our way to our…" Merry looked around to make sure that none of the teams were eavesdropping. The only person who was near them was Bilbo, but he couldn't hear anything, so it didn't matter. "… our secret apple-cinnamon muffin tree, we can get our food from there! We can make a trip later tonight. Until then, Pip, your stomach will have to wait. We've got a lot of work to do; we're far behind the other teams!"

"Okay!" Pippin said. "Merry, you'll get some stuff to make three shelters. Gimli, you'll gather some firewood and see if you can light a fire. And I'll go look for food…" Pippin said and hurriedly began to walk away, only to be pulled back by the other two.

"Oh no you don't!" Gimli said. "If you go looking for food, Peregrin Took, I bet that you'd bring nothing back for us!"

"Yeah!" Merry agreed.

"Oh, fine!" Pippin said. "I'll help Merry with the shelters!"

"Great, then!" Merry said. "We'll make camp on this spot, since it seems like it's not taken. Alright! Let's get to work!"

"Alright!" replied the other Food-Seekers.

Soon, the Food-Seekers had set up their campsite. There were three decently built huts congregated around an area cleared for big cooking-fires.

"Excellent." Merry said. "Now, let's go get us some…" Merry looked around to make sure that nobody was eavesdropping. "… apple cinnamon muffins." He whispered.

The other Food-Seekers cheered and they ran off into the jungle.

"I don't believe it…" Merry said, staring at the empty apple-cinnamon muffin tree.

"THEY'RE GONE! ALL OF THEM! GONE!" Pippin cried out. "WHY? WHY? WHY MUST ALL THINGS THAT ARE GOOD DISAPPEAR?"

Gimli let out a loud sob and rested his head on Merry's shoulder, who patted him on the back.

"There, there," Merry said, soothingly. "It's okay. Just cry it all out."

Gimli raised his head and let out a loud wail.

"What are we going to do for food?" Pippin cried out.

"Don't worry, Pippin." Merry said. "We'll find a way."

"But how?"

"I saw some banana trees on our way here," Merry replied. "We'll just have to live off of those until we find something better."

"Okay…"

"I bet that one of the other teams stole our muffins! Of all the no-good-dirty-rotten tricks, that's the lowest! Whoever did it is going to pay, dearly!" Merry said with an evil laugh.

The other two Food-Seekers added their evil laughter to Merry's.

* * *

**The King of the Island** (Aragorn) 

Aragorn sat down after another satisfactory meal of fruits. Chuck had disappeared somewhere; Aragorn assumed that he was off gathering more fruits for his King.

Aragorn gave a satisfied sigh and patted his full stomach. Yup, surviving in the wilderness was a lot easier than he remembered. Aragorn closed his eyes and felt himself fall asleep.

* * *

**The Hobbit-Hater** (just Bob) 

Bob sat on the beach, watching the other teams go about their tasks. He saw as Aragorn fell asleep and Denethor tried to wriggle free of his bonds. He had seen the Food-Seekers go off into the forest for some mysterious reason. Whatever it was, he didn't want to know.

Bob sighed and turned away from watching the teams and looked into the sunset on the ocean. It was really pretty… so many colors… Perhaps when he was done with this he would become a water-color artist and travel all over the world and paint different sunsets. That would be a cool job… Of course, the only way he'd be able to do that was if he won the contest and got his wish…

Bob was abruptly brought out of his daydream by a smell that was putrid even to his nostrils. He started to gag and searched for the source.

* * *

**The Ringbearers** (Frodo, Sam and Bilbo) 

"Ugh! Sam! What is that?" Frodo asked, pinching his nose and waving the putrid fumes away from his face.

"It's some fried cabbage and asparagus!" Sam said. "Would you care for some?" Sam extended a contrived pan full of steaming vegetables toward Frodo, who made a face and gagged.

"No way!" Frodo said, still pinching his nose. "Sam! You're going to stink up the whole island with that!"

"Really? I don't think so! I think it smells good… and Bilbo liked his enough! See? He ate the whole thing!"

Bilbo sat contentedly on the sand, licking his fingers.

"Sam, he's old. He can barely hear, see, taste, feel, or smell anything anymore! He doesn't know what you're giving him!"

Sam sniffed indignantly. "Fine, then! But you'll be sorry!"

"I severely doubt that." Frodo remarked.

* * *

That night, everyone on the island suffered from the putrid fumes of Sam's cooking. Nobody slept and everyone had half a mind to murder Sam. And to make things even worse, Sam's snoring tore through their ears that night and gave them headaches. By morning, everyone was ready for what was to happen that day…

* * *

**The Voting-Off Of…**

That morning, everyone gathered at a spot and awaited Arwen's arrival. Sam, of course, was excited about the whole "voting" process and was already doing some campaigning.

"Vote for Sam!" Sam yelled. "Vote for Sam, everyone!" He turned to Boromir. "Don't forget, a vote for Sam is a vote for Sam!"

"Oh, shut up!" Boromir snapped.

"You do realize, Sam, that you're not trying to-" Frodo began to say, but was then silenced by several hands and dragged away.

"What?" He said to all of the other contestants, except for Sam.

"Listen, Frodo." Aragorn said. "Here's the deal. Sam's been a pain in the butt to all of us recently. His cooking of cabbages and asparagus, and his snoring, can no longer be tolerated! We need to get rid of him! So, don't tell him that the objective is _not_ to win!"

"Well… I don't want to hurt his feelings…" Frodo said.

"Forget his feelings!" Boromir said, giving Frodo a shake. "Think about your own health! And the health of us all!"

"Okay… fine…" Frodo said.

At that moment, Arwen appeared with a flash of light. "Is everybody ready to begin the voting-off process?" She asked. They all nodded.

"Good, then let's begin!" Arwen said and handed each person a slip of paper and a pen.

"And remember!" Sam interjected. "Vote for me! After all, a vote for Sam's a vote for Sam!"

Everyone rolled their eyes and then scribbled down their vote and put them in the ballot-box that Arwen had told them to put their ballots in.

Once everyone was done voting, Arwen said, "Okay, now I will tally the votes." Arwen opened the box and took out one ballot. "One for Sam." She said and took out another. "Sam, again." She took out another. "WHAT?" She said.

"What do you mean, 'WHAT?'?" The voters asked.

"It's what the ballot says." Arwen said, showing it to everyone else. Written there in bold was the word, 'WHAT?'

"That must be Bilbo's." Frodo said.

"Okay… Then I'll just ignore it." Arwen said, tossing Bilbo's ballot aside. Then, another ballot was taken from the box. "Sam." She grabbed a fistful of ballots. "Sam, Sam, Sam, Sam, Sam, Sam, and…" Arwen paused and frowned. "…one for… Bilbo."

A wave of surprise flew through the voters.

"Well… that's really strange. Anyway, in a practically unanimous vote, Sam wins!"

"WHOO!" Sam yelled and jumped up. "IN YOUR FACES! I WIN! I WIN! I WIN!" Sam danced around.

"Sam," Aragorn said, "I don't mean to burst your bubble… actually, I do… but, the objective was to _not_ win."

"Really? Oh. Well, that stinks." Sam said.

"Sam, you're the first one to be voted off the island! Goodbye!" Arwen said. Sam disappeared in a flash of light.

Boromir let out a cheer. "WHOO! YEAH! IN YOUR FACE, SAM! THAT'S WHAT YOU GET FOR KICKING ME IN THE GROIN!"

"Okay…" Arwen said, giving Boromir an odd look. "Now," Arwen turned to face the remaining contestants, "I must tell the rest of you something… in a few days, one of you will be voted off again. You'd best prepare for that session. Well… goodbye and good luck!" Arwen smiled and disappeared with a flash of light.

"Poor Sam…" Frodo said, shaking his head. "He was so used to wanting to win those elections for Mayor that he wanted to win the voting-off! Hmm… I wonder who the one person to vote for Bilbo was."

"You mean it wasn't you?" Aragorn asked.

"No. Why would I not vote for Sam?" Frodo replied.

"Well… I thought you didn't want to hurt his feelings by voting for him," Aragorn said.

"No, I was just saying that to look like the good guy. I really wanted to vote him off with all of my heart!" Frodo said. "So, spill it! Which one of you simpletons voted for my uncle?"

"I didn't," Aragorn said.

"It wasn't me," Said Merry.

"Don't look at me!" Pippin exclaimed.

"Nope." Said Gimli.

Bob walked away. "This is pointless…" He said.

"It wasn't me." Denethor said. "I voted for Sam… otherwise I would have voted for Faramir."

"I voted for Sam!" Boromir said. "After all, he deserved it!"

"That leaves…" Everyone turned to look at Faramir.

"I gotta go to that place to fix that thing…" Faramir said and hurriedly walked away.

"Oh, that reminds me!" Boromir exclaimed and produced the dark green compact. "Aragorn, you know a lot about the elves! Can you tell me if this compact belongs to one of them?" Boromir handed the compact to Aragorn.

"Sure…" Aragorn said and hesitantly took the compact. "May I ask where you got this?"

"I… uh… I tripped over it." Boromir said.

Aragorn then examined the compact and handed it back to Boromir. "It's Legolas'." He stated.

"Legolas?" Boromir exclaimed. "'L.G.' stands for… 'Legolas… uh…'"

"Greenleaf. Legolas Greenleaf." Aragorn said.

"Okay… well that solves that mystery." Boromir said, pocketing the compact. "Do you think Legolas would mind if I broke it?"

"I would think that he wouldn't, considering he has thousands of compacts, but, then again, it is Legolas…"

"Well, thanks Aragorn!" Boromir said. "I'm off to see what's up with Faramir! Bye!" Boromir started to walk away.

"WAIT JUST ONE DARN MINUTE!" Merry exclaimed. "NOBODY'S GOING NOWHERE UNTIL ONE OF YOU FESSES UP! BOB, FARAMIR! GET YOUR KEESTERS OVER HERE! STAT!"

Bob and Faramir made their way over to the rest of the group, both looking nervous.

"WHAT?" Bilbo exclaimed.

"Fess up to what?" Boromir asked, ignoring Bilbo and walking back to the group of people.

"Somebody stole our apple-cinnamon muffins!" Pippin said.

"And we're going to make one of you punks sing like a canary!" Gimli added.

"And where, might I ask, did you find apple-cinnamon muffins on a deserted island?" Frodo asked.

"They grow on trees!" Pippin exclaimed.

"Are you sure that one of you didn't get hit on the head with one of those coconuts? Because I did and after that I though I was King of the Nazgul!" Boromir said.

Bob cleared his throat and glared at Boromir.

"I said, 'I thought'!" Boromir quickly added. "It didn't mean I was! But, anyway, **(censored)**! Those coconuts really do hurt!" Boromir rubbed his head.

Faramir gasped. "Boromir! Watch your language!"

"Don't tell him what to do!" Denethor snapped at Faramir. "You're not his mother… no matter how much you look like her!" Denethor then turned to Boromir and said, "Son, watch your **(censored)** language!"

"Hypocrite." Faramir muttered under his breath.

"What'd you say to me?" Denethor snapped at Faramir.

"Nothing, Father!" Faramir replied.

"WHAT?" Bilbo exclaimed.

"Anyway…" Merry said, "WHICH ONE OF YOU STOLE OUR MUFFINS?"

Suddenly, Chuck walked up to the group with an extremely satisfied smile on his face. There were some crumbs in his fur and his fingers looked sticky.

"Greetings, my subject!" Aragorn said. "What have you brought me?"

Chuck grinned and extended an apple-cinnamon muffin out to Aragorn.

Aragorn took the apple-cinnamon muffin and ate it. "Mmmmm! That was really good! Tasted just like a… apple-cinamon muffin… Oh…" He then turned to Chuck. "Elessar Elfstone Telcontar Arwino Longshanks Thorongil Estel Strider Chuck Aragorn III, you did a very bad thing! Now apologize to these nice people!"

"Aragorn, you've been alone far too long if you're talking to a monkey like it's a person!" Boromir remarked.

Aragorn gasped and covered Chuck's ears. "Don't listen to the mean man, Chuck! He didn't mean to hurt your feelings! He's just jealous of our special bond!"

Boromir rolled his eyes. "You know," he said, "this only proves my point!"

"Aragorn, I never would have expected you of all people to stoop to this kind of treachery!" Gimli exclaimed, shocked. "My bets were on Bob… or Boromir. After all, he did try to take the Ring from Frodo!"

"Oh, just let it go, already, for pity's sake!" Boromir exclaimed. "I was possessed, okay! It could have happened to any one of you! I just happened to have…" He looked at the compact mirror. "… bad luck!"

"And just think; now you have seven years of it!" Faramir commented.

Boromir groaned. Then, a coconut fell from the tree he was standing under and bonked him on the head. "Augh! My **(censored)** head! **(censored) **bad luck!"

"You know," a disembodied voice that sounded strangely like Legolas said, "There's no such thing as bad luck! However, there is such thing as a series of extremely unfortunate events!" Then, it was muffled.

Behind the shrub, Glorfindel hissed to Legolas so that nobody else could hear him, "If you keep this up, I'll take away all of your compacts!"

"I'll be good!" Legolas replied. "Just don't take away my precious!"

Glorfindel rolled his eyes. "Princelings." He muttered.

The contestants just scratched their heads, pondering where Legolas' voice came from.

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_(Announcer: Next time on Stranded, more stuff happens! Find out why Faramir is acting oddly! What will the fate of Legolas' compacts be? How much bad luck will Boromir get? Will the Food-Seekers avenge their apple-cinnamon muffins? Who will get eliminated next? Find out next time!)_

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That's all I'll write for now. I'd like to extend my thanks towards all of those of you who reviewed for the previous chapter! Thanks! 

Anyways, please leave lots of reviews!


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